


Hollywoodland

by romanticalgirl, ubertrash



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1930s, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bottom Bucky Barnes, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gay Steve Rogers, Golden Age Hollywood, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 69,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ubertrash/pseuds/ubertrash
Summary: ** VERY IMPORTANT ** odetteandodile did some amazing artwork for this, but AO3 says she can't be a co-creator, but be VERY assured that she is, and is awesomeIn 1930s Hollywood, the world is run on the studio system. Stars are told who to date, what to wear, what to say, and how to look pretty doing it. The only way you can really do what you want is if you don't get caught.Steve's dating Peggy, which works out because she's married to Sam, even though it's not legal. But it's the perfect cover for the fact that Steve's gay. He's managing just find skirting the system to find companionship, but then he meets James Barnes and life gets a lot more complicated.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Sam Wilson
Comments: 86
Kudos: 215
Collections: Not Another Stucky Big Bang 2020





	1. 1935

**Author's Note:**

> So many thank yous to my AMAZING artists. Both of them have been GREAT and I love them both dearly. They've brought such life to the story with their art. Shower them with praise. Their art is embedded as well as linked to their accounts. Seriously. Praise.
> 
> In regards to 1930-40s Hollywood – my knowledge came from Google, Wikipedia, and IMDB. I don’t know how long it took to film a movie back then, so roll with it, if you would please. I apologize profusely to all the actors that I stole roles from and gave to Steve and Bucky. I made sure they weren’t super well-known at least? Maybe that’s more cruel.
> 
> I tried not to use any terms that, by today’s standards, would be considered unacceptable. Were they used then? Probably, but that didn’t mean I had to. Would Sam be in the position he’s in in this fic given the color of his skin? Probably not. Again, please roll with it. I wanted Sam in my story as more than something than the “token black friend” or “the plot device to facilitate what I wanted to happen”. Sam is great. I love Sam.
> 
> Some things you may or may not know: Lavender marriages/relationships were (and are) still very really in Hollywood, though they’re not called that anymore. Cary Grant’s daughter denies it, but the odds that Grant and Scott were in a relationship are very very high (and also the source of this fic idea). If you don’t believe me, take a gander at [this photo spread](https://www.everythingzoomer.com/arts-entertainment/2019/06/24/cary-grant-randolph-scott-a-hollywood-gay-couple/). There were (and are) a lot of gay/lesbian/bisexual people in Hollywood, and the studio system did a LOT to cover it up.
> 
> Don’t try to figure out the years in this. It’ll just make me feel bad. And, last but not least, there’s already a sequel because time management isn’t real and words are bitches.
> 
> I hope you like it! <3

>

**Stark Contract: -2**

Steve knows who he is, of course. You can't be in Hollywood and not know who James Barnes is. Even if you managed not to be involved in the studios or the movies, there were billboards and posters on every street, at every movie theater. He'd been up for an Oscar last year, and likely would have won it if it hadn't been for the sweep by _It Happened One Night_.

They've never met though. Their paths seem to have run parallel. They've never been up for the same role. Of course, Barnes's dark hair, dazzling smile, and sly glances make him the ultimate pirate, swashbuckler, romantic outlaw. They say he could be the next Clark Gable, the next William Powell. 

Steve's blond, blue-eyed, boy next door looks tend to get him cast as sheriffs, soldiers, professors, an innocent man on the run, and romantic foils. But his latest movie - working with Hitchock on the heels of _The 39 Steps_ \- have generated enough buzz that his agent pretty much insisted he come to tonight's premiere.

Steve's not stupid enough to go against Sam's word. The fact that Sam's a black man in Hollywood and a major player would be enough to get Steve to listen to him, but given that Sam's his best friend and has never led Steve astray, there's no way he was arguing.

He puts a finger under his collar, tugging the bow tie out in the hopes of not getting choked to death. Peggy smirks at him from the seat next to him. "Darling." 

"Right." He clears his throat and puts his hand in his lap with the other one, lacing his fingers together. "Sorry."

Peggy laughs softly and reaches over, squeezing his forearm. "Why are you so nervous? You've done this enough times it should be old hat."

"Normally they're my premieres. I know what to do at those. Wave, smile, kiss cheeks, shake hands. What do I do when it's someone else's movie?"

"You do this every time." She moves her hand down and pries his apart, threading her fingers with his and squeezing. "You wave, smile, shake hands, kiss cheeks. The crowd's still going to scream for you."

He feels the heat of a blush stain his cheeks. "That's not what I - "

"I know, darling. I'm not accusing you of craving attention. But you're a bona fide movie star. You're going to have to get used to it, you know. Your star's just as much on the rise as Barnes's is."

"I'm not sure that makes me feel better." 

She leans over and kisses his cheek then wipes away any trace of red. "Is any of this about us?"

"What? No! Pegs, you know I love being with you." 

She raises an eyebrow. "You know perfectly well what I mean." 

Steve shifts in his seat and tugs at his collar again. "I don't mind that people think we're dating. You know that. I mean, as long as you don't mind." He's not sure how she thinks he could. She's more gorgeous than Claudette Colbert and just as talented. 

"I know a lavender relationship isn't…"

"Peggy, you and I both know there's no help for that. I appreciate you doing it. And being discreet about it."

"I've known you for a long time, Steven, and if you think I'm going to let Stark - "

"I'm already nervous, Peg. Can we not talk about this?" He tightens his free hand into a fist, his nails digging into his palm. He looks out the window to avoid her sharp gaze. 

"Darling. You know I need it as much as you do." She raises her eyebrows and Steve sighs. 

"You know I'd do anything for you and Sam."

"Perhaps believe that the reverse is true as well." The limousine comes to a halt and Steve takes a deep breath and lets it out. He lifts their joined hands and kisses the back of hers. "Now. Put on that Rogers razzle dazzle."

"There's no such thing." The driver opens the door for Steve and as soon as he steps out, a roar goes up in the crowd. He hurries around to help Peggy out of the car and she gives him a knowing grin as she joins him.

"I think they disagree." He gives her a look that she ignores as she slides her hand into the crook of his elbow. He reaches over with his other hand and puts it on top of hers, and leans in to kiss her cheek. Another scream greets that and she smiles and brushes a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "Perhaps look a little less like you're going to the guillotine."

"Yes, dear." He smiles at her, then turns to smile at the crowd. They start walking down the red carpet, and Steve does as instructed - smiles, waves, signs a few autographs, suffers through the snap and flash of cameras. Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons are inside of course, far too important in Hollywood society to be outside with the rest of the entertainment press. The lobby is filled with the who's who of the town - studio heads, directors, actresses and actors.

Stark waves him and Peggy over and they both sigh before heading his direction. "There's my boy and his lovely lady." He kisses Peggy on one cheek and then the next. Peggy manages not to roll her eyes. 

"Hello, Howard."

"I didn't actually expect you to show up, Rogers. Camera shy doesn't make for big openings. Gotta put that pretty face out there." He grabs Steve's chin and squeezes lightly. "Come on. I want you to talk to Hawks a little. See if we can get you in his next movie instead of Fonda or Stewart."

"Howard - "

"Hawks!" Howard tugs Steve along to a small group and Steve immediately decides that he'd be okay with a lightning strike. Besides Howard Hawks, there's David O. Selznik and Henry Fonda and JImmy Stewart themselves. They all greet Steve amiably enough, though Howard gets a less warm greeting. "Hawks. You know Rogers, don't you? I think you should be considering him. Studio's happy to loan him out for an esteemed director like yourself."

"We've already cast the part, Howard." Hawks says and Steve stops wondering if it's possible to get more embarrassed and closes his eyes tight for a moment. Fonda's smiling at him when he opens his eyes. 

"Rogers. Come get a drink with me.C'mon, Jimmy. Let's let them chat." Steve moves off with them, breathing a sigh of relief. "Don't worry about it," Fonda says quietly. "All Howards are like that."

"I'm not trying to compete with you two. I hope you know that."

"Well, sure you are," Stewart says. "That's what actors do. Trick's not to take it personal." They get to the bar and Stewart orders a whiskey and soda for each of them. He passes them out then holds up his glass. "To the next big role."

Steve and Fonda clink their glasses with his and Steve takes a sip of his, glancing around the rest of the room. Peggy's in the corner talking with Myrna Loy and Carole Lombard and they're laughing. It's almost unfair for that much beauty to be together, much less having fun. Steve feels the warmth of it like the sun.

Hedda Hopper heads over toward the women, and Steve quickly turns back toward the bar. She makes him nervous in ways he doesn't like to admit. She makes him feel like she can see right through him. Fortunately everything is cut short when the doors open to more screams and Barnes comes inside with Rita Hayworth on one arm, and his costar, Natalie Rushman, on the other. Rita leans in and whispers something in Barnes's ear that makes him laugh, then she slips over to deposit her wrap at the coat check.

Quite a few people flood toward Barnes, so Steve steps back toward the edges of the crowd. He's not claustrophobic exactly, but the press of people tends to spike his anxiety. Keeping away from it and sipping his drink lets him be present but distant all at once.

It's easy to see Barnes's star-power. He's got a million-watt smile that brightens the room, but he's also got something more, like he gives off the same kind of glow and warmth of a fire. People seem to gravitate toward him. Sighing, Steve ducks his head and finishes his whiskey. One of the servers carries a tray of drinks toward the swarm around Barnes, weaving her way easily to offer him a glass. He hears Barnes's thanks over the noise, sees his smile, wink, and generous tip. 

The server blushes and heads back toward Steve. Sighing, he pushes off the bar and walks around the group to where Peggy's standing. She's staring at Barnes and, if it weren't for him knowing how Peggy feels about Sam, Steve thinks he'd be worried. "You look like you want him served up on a platter." 

She glances up at Steve with a playful smile. "I was thinking more that you might." Steve's jaw tightens, and he presses his teeth together to keep from reacting beyond that. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I was out of line."

"I think they're seating everyone." He takes her elbow gently and turns her toward the open doors of the theater, following people down the aisle as the usher guides them to their seats.

**

Steve lasts until about halfway through the movie, then he heads back into the lobby. Even through the closed doors, he can hear the audience laughing. For all that it's an adventure, the movie has a sharp sense of humor. Steve pulls his cigarettes from his pocket and taps one out, striking the match and bending his head to light it.

"Not to your taste?"

Steve looks up and blows out smoke to douse the match. Barnes is leaning back with both elbows on the bar, a highball glass in his hand. "Pretty sure you're supposed to be in there." 

Barnes shrugs and takes a drink, "Probably, but staring at myself on the screen is not my favorite thing to do." He watches as Steve returns the cigarette to his mouth and takes a drag. His eyes follow the motion and Steve holds it out to him.

"Want one?"

"No. Thanks. They key me up instead of calm me down, and I'm jittery enough as it is." He nods toward the theater. "Sounds like they aren't hating it though."

"They're going to be lining up around the block to see it. Heard they're keeping it here at Graumann's for a good month." He takes another drag and blows smoke toward the ceiling. "Not supposed to do this. Apparently messes with my all American boy image."

"American boys don't smoke?" Barnes smiles.

"Not according to Howard and Sam." He moves to the ashtray between the theater doors and stubs it out, blowing out a last stream of smoke. "I can't do it either. Watch myself on screen. Usually slip out after the cartoon."

"Well, yeah. Can't miss the cartoon."

Steve laughs quietly. "You makin' fun of me?"

"Careful. That Brooklyn accent's gonna get you cast as a mobster if you're not careful." He takes another drink. "What are you drinking?"

"Whiskey and soda again, Mr. Rogers?" 

Steve nods at the bartender then walks toward the bar. Barnes turns slightly to look at him and Steve shrugs. "You sayin' I can't play a gangster, buddy?"

Barnes laughs and sips his drink. "I'm sure you could do anything you wanted. Doesn't seem the career path Stark has plotted out for you though." 

Steve sighs and relaxes against the counter. "No. Howard doesn't believe in messing with a good thing. Either that or he doesn't think I have any range. Sam does his best, but Howard is - "

"Howard." Barnes nods. "I did a small film for his studio, just a bit part, and he was pretty hands on."

"Half his directors are just fronts for him, I think. He keeps saying he'll lend me out to the other studios, but no offers have come in."

"Or he hasn't told you about them." 

“He wouldn’t hamstring me that way." Steve shrugs. "I mean, he's an ass, but he's not that much of one. I don't think. But thanks for something else for me to worry about."

Barnes shakes his head. "You don't seem the insecure type."

"Isn't every actor the insecure type?"

"That's fair I suppose." He takes another sip, watching Steve as he does the same. "You and Carter."

Steve tries not to stiffen up, to get defensive. "What about us?"

"Wedding bells on the horizon?" Barnes looks down at his drink then up at Steve through his lashes for a moment before meeting his gaze head on. Steve feels that sharp familiar pull in his stomach and inhales, holding it for a moment until he's sure it won't come out shaky.

"Not yet. Not sure I'm good enough for her, to be honest."

"Oh, c'mon. You're Hollywood's golden pair." He spreads his hands. "A love for the ages."

Steve takes a sip of his drink and then another. "That's what they say." Barnes's eyebrows go up slightly, dropping down as quick as they rose. "What about you and Ms. Rushman? Rumors are flying fast and furious that you two have an illicit romance going on."

"Between you and me?" Barnes leans in until Steve can practically taste the whiskey on his breath. "Pretty sure the husband would kill me."

"She's," Steve immediately lowers his voice. "Married?"

"Mm," is all Barnes says, shrugging as he moves back. He's smiling as he lifts his drink to his lips. 

"She's not." Steve shakes his head. "I can't believe that. In this town? Hopper'd be all over that."

"I didn't say he was _her_ husband." He laughs as Steve narrows his eyes. "He's married. Well, mostly married."

Eyes widening this time, Steve leans in. "Fairbanks?"

"You're up to date on Hollywood gossip, aren't you?"

"Well, it's been news around town. Hard not to hear of it." He tilts his head, considering. "Guess it's natural - two beautiful people together."

"You think so?"

"Don't see it much the other way in Hollywood. Studios make sure of that. Surprised they haven't paired you off with someone. Or are you waiting for the right one to come along? I know Hayworth's not your girl. Welles is just as dangerous, if not more so, that Fairbanks."

"Mm. Eyeing a role in Welles's new thing. Not touching Hayworth. She was meeting him here. I was just her ride." 

"There are worse things to be, I suppose."

"Why, Mr. Rogers. Such talk belies your esteemed reputation. They say you're quite the puritan."

"I tend to play them. Doesn't make me one." He shrugs and finishes his drink. "I suppose I should be getting back."

"We should have dinner." Barnes smiles as Steve looks at him. "Two Brooklyn boys reminiscing about the good old days."

"The Depression was the good old days?" Steve fights a smile. "I think you and I might have different definitions, buddy."

Barnes bites his lower lip before smiling again and taking another drink. "I'll have my people get in touch with your people. Set something up. We'll hit the town. Assuming your better half doesn't mind you getting ogled by the single dames."

"She doesn't mind if they ogle." Steve sets his glass on the bar. "Thanks, Stan."

"Any time, Mr. Rogers."

Barnes looks at the bartender. "Stan, huh? How come I never knew your name?"

"Well, Mr. Barnes," Stan shrugs as he keeps cleaning the inside of a glass with his cloth. Steve watches them, and, for all that James is, Stan catches his eye more. He's got white hair and he's looking at James through thick glasses. The brass buttons on his red vests glint in the light.. "You never asked."

"You're right. I never did." He holds out his hand. "Stan? I'm James Barnes. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Same to you, Mr. Barnes."

"Now, I suppose Mr. Rogers is correct, and I need to get back in there. Thanks for the drink." He finishes the last of it and sets the glass down next to Steve's. "You staying out to steal another smoke?"

"I suppose I can go back in and sit through it." 

"Ah, well I appreciate that. I want a full review at dinner when we go out."

Steve watches him go back into the theater, his brow furrowed. "He's an odd duck, Stan."

"Ain't you all, Mr. Rogers. Ain't you all."

  
  


**

_Last night the star shining on the horizon was James Barnes - his new movie **Public Hero Number 1** brought the best of Hollywood out to the premiere, and his performance is getting rave reviews._

**

"Rogers!" Howard yells at Steve across the sound stage and the entire set seems to groan. They've been working on this scene all morning, with one thing after another, and it finally seemed like it was going right. 

"Sorry," Steve whispers to Katharine Hepburn as he moves past her. She waves a hand at him, and heads over to talk to her assistant and light a cigarette. He offers a silent apology to Victor Fleming who just rolls his eyes and mouths 'Stark'.

He hurries to the edge of the sound stage to intercept Howard before he can get close enough to cause problems. 

"What's the matter, Howard?"

"Just got a call from RKO."

"Oh?" Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise. "And you couldn't tell Sam? Or wait until filming was done for the day?

"Tell Wilson? Why would I… Oh, no. No. They're not looking for you for something."

Steve shoulders slump slightly. "Oh?"

"Want to talk to me about that script we bought the rights to. That lawyer one." Steve's shoulders can't slump any further, but he knows exactly what Howard's going to say. "I know we talked about it as a vehicle for you, kid. I know you had your heart set on it, but it's not your image, and it's not in your best interest. Got some other things lined up with you in mind." He punches Steve lightly on the arm a few times. "All right. Go knock Selznick off his pompous ass. Give 'em hell."

"Right. Thanks, Howard. Stay off the set, huh? Last thing I want is Hepburn mad at me."

"Good point. Good point. Lady doesn't mince words. I'd tell you to give her my regards, but she'd probably punch me."

"It's a common desire," Katharine drawls from where she'd come up behind Steve. "Pretty sure most of us have it roughly every time we see you."

"Kate, you break my heart. Every damn time."

"Be glad I don't break anything else." She takes Steve's hand and turns, leading him back to the set. Once they're out of Howard's hearing, she glances at him. "Howard Stark is just as likely to ruin your career as make it."

"I owe him a lot."

"Loyalty and Hollywood don't always make good bedfellows." She smiles at him. "Come on. Let's see if we can get this one right. I hear the fifteenth time's a charm."

**

Romanoff's is crowded and loud in the way that the conversations are not quite where you can hear what's being said, but it's still a buzz in the air. Just enough to catch your ear, but not enough to eavesdrop. Steve puts his hand in the small of Peggy's back as he guides her into her seat, then sits across from her. 

He looks around. There are plenty of people he recognizes and no one he'd rather not see. He orders a drink when the waitress comes up to the table, smiles when Peggy orders her usual red wine.

"None of that," she says with a smile of her own. "It's quite rude to laugh at your date."

"I'd never laugh at you," he assures her. "Not when you know all my secrets."

"You've no bodies you've buried and nary a skeleton in your closet. I'm not sure who you think you're fooling pretending to have some sort of dark side." She frowns slightly and reaches out, putting her hand lightly on his. "You're overthinking and twisting what I said. I can see it in your face." She lifts her hand and rubs the skin between his eyes, soothing away his frown lines. "What happened?"

Steve sighs, but doesn't answer while their drinks are set in front of them. He smiles his thanks. As soon as the waitress is gone, he looks down into his drink. "Howard."

"That would be who happened. And I probably could have guessed that." She takes a sip of her wine and keeps looking at him. He opens his mouth and she tilts her head waiting patiently.

"RKO's got the script now." Steve blows out a breath.

Peggy's eyes widen and then narrow sharply. Her mouth sets in a firm line, and Steve appreciates that she's on his side. "He didn't."

"He did. Of course he did." He picks up his glass and drains it in one long swallow. "It's what he does."

"Oh, Steve. I'm sorry."

"I don't know why I'm surprised. I should have known he had no intention of letting me do it. He doesn't think I _can_ do it. To him, I'm not that kind of actor. Don't have the chops."

"That's ridiculous. Howard knows you have talent."

"Oh yeah. I got home to the consolation prize of another western. I have talent because I can ride a horse and shoot at the same time." He blows out a breath. "Sorry. I don't mean to spoil our night out."

"It's part of my job, isn't it? As the love of your life." She grins, red lips bright in the candlelight. "Now. Tell me what Hepburn's like to work with."

Steve laughs and starts telling her about the other half of his day, stopping when the sound of the club goes muted. He glances over his shoulder and sees Barnes saying hello to the maitre d. Natalie Rushman's with him again and she smiles at Steve and nods at him as she says something to Barnes. 

Barnes looks over and waves, pointing to the empty chairs at their table. Steve glances at Peggy and, at her nod, waves them over to join them. They get settled into their seats and the waitress is there to take their drink orders immediately. "Don't tell me you didn't have a table reserved," Steve says with a grin.

"I absolutely won't tell you that," Barnes laughs. "Meeting up with friends is a much better proposition though." He smiles up at the waitress when she sets his drink in front of him, and Steve's pretty sure she's a cartoon character with hearts in her eyes. He winks then turns back to the three of them. "Something worth toasting at least?"

Natalie rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Don't believe a word he says. He was hoping I could finagle us a table."

"Well, if anyone could charm their way to the best seat in the house, Nat." Barnes winks at her. "Though I think Peggy here could certainly give you a run for the money. Is it alright that I call you Peggy? Steve and I talked at the premiere the other night. Told me all about you."

"Did I?" Steve arches an eyebrow. "I must have had more to drink than I thought. I don't remember telling you much at all."

"Lies. He told me everything. The day you met. The look in your eyes. The way his heart soared."

Peggy leans closer to Barnes, gesturing with her finger to make him come closer. "You are beautiful, but you're also full of shit."

Natalie snorts a laugh, covering her mouth with her drink. Barnes glares at her and she shrugs. "She's got your number."

Barnes leans back and smiles. "Guilty as charged. He was a terrible paramour and refused to talk about you at all."

"Darling, I do appreciate the effort to be charming, but I've no intention of swooning in your direction. I'm sure it must be a terrible blow to your ego."

The smile doesn't leave his face. In fact, it widens to a full-fledged grin. "I like her, Rogers. Hold on to this one."

"I already figured that out. Thank you." He reaches across the table and takes Peggy's hand, squeezing it lightly before releasing it. "So, Barnes - "

"Bucky."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Bucky. It's what my friends call me. And only my friends. I know anyone who comes up to me and starts talking to James that they want something. Whether it's a fan for an autograph or a reporter." He shrugs. "I like having a layer between Hollywood and real life."

"I don't blame you," Peggy says. "Sometimes it's very hard to know what's real out here." She raises one knowing eyebrow at Steve and he blushes, though she's talking about herself as much as him.

"Isn't it though," Natalie laughs softly. "That's assuming there is anything real out here." She looks over Bucky's shoulder and Steve follows her eyes. Fairbanks is sitting at a nearby table, laughing with a group of friends. Steve assumes that Bucky never told her that Steve knows, so he doesn't say anything though, when she looks at him next, he smiles. "You seem real enough, Rogers."

"Steve."

"What are you? Cornfed Iowa boy?"

He snorts. "I'll have you know I'm Brooklyn born and bred, ma'am."

"I've offended you," Natalie tilts her head. "I do apologize. Though I won't apologize for what I'll do if you call me ma'am again."

"Noted."

A waiter comes up to the table then, and Bucky and Natalie look over the menu while Steve and Peggy order, then give their own orders. After that, it's light and easy conversation, less about who they are and what they do and more about who they used to be. Both Bucky and Steve had been in France for a short period of time, Peggy and Natalie both doing time on the front as well as nurses, though something tells Steve Natalie was a nurse like Peggy was, doing something that was most definitely not nursing.

Dinner's full of laughter and terrible jokes, teasing each other like old friends. Steve finds that he and Bucky both seem to have a tendency to list toward each other, that Bucky puts his elbow on the table and leans in, chin on his hand, when he talks to Steve.

Steve's heart kicks up every time and he eventually leans back in his chair for his own peace of mind. He knows they'll all end up in the paper in the morning. Acerbic remarks from Parsons or Hopper or both picking apart what their conversations must have been, alluding to non-existent projects and, Steve imagines, wondering if Peggy's going to throw him over for Barnes. Bucky.

Natalie's eyes keep straying to Fairbanks and Steve reaches out and squeezes her hand. Her gaze snaps to him and feels like a brand until her face softens with a smile. "Sorry. Got lost in my own thoughts, I guess."

Damning himself to inches of ink, Steve leans in close to her. "He's not worth it."

She raises an eyebrow, turning her head slightly so she's facing him. They're just inches apart, and Steve can see the flash of a camera in the corner of his eye. "I have no idea what you mean, Mr. Rogers."

"Yeah, you do. You don't have to admit it. You don't have to do anything. But I hope you'll think about it."

"You barely know me."

"I know enough." He shrugs and leans back. "He cheats at cards."

"So does Bucky."

"Ah," Bucky interrupts. "But I look dashing doing it." Pressing his napkin against the corner of his mouth, he looks at the three of them. "Let's go dancing."

"Steve doesn't dance," Peggy says with a dramatic sigh.

"Excellent. Means I get both of you to myself."

**

Steve watches them all dance, smiling and sipping his drink. The most he can manage is a box step, and even that’s iffy. Normally Peggy stays by his side and they end up making the rounds and talking to people. Now that Natalie’s with them, she doesn’t have to feel bad when she dances with Bucky and several others. Steve wishes Sam could be with them so she could actually dance with him, but he knows that’s not possible.

“It’s Natasha.”

Steve starts and looks away from the floor back at Natalie. “Pardon?”

“My name. It’s actually Natasha. The studio thought it was too foreign sounding.”

“Huh.” Steve frowns, brow furrowing. “You’d think with Garbo they’d embrace it. Especially since they’ve typecast you as a femme fatale.”

“That, cowboy, is very true.” The corner of her mouth turns up in a smile and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Hey now. Sometimes I play a sheriff.” He smiles back at her.

“On a horse.” She laughs this time, soft and careful like she’s not used to doing it, at least not in public. “So, how did you know about me?”

“And him?” Steve shrugs. “Bucky mentioned something about how you were as good as married, but implied it wasn’t quite like that. I figured, given all the rumors, that it was him.”

“You aren’t scandalized?”

“You’re both adults. I don’t think it’s going to work out in the end, if you’re looking for something permanent, but I’ve been wrong about things before.”

“You don’t have a problem with him being married? Or with us just having fun?”

“Like I said, you’re adults. And.” He leans in and beckons her closer. She goes, still smiling. “I may have had lovers before Peggy and I got together.” He holds a finger up to his lips. “Shh. Don’t tell. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

She puts her fingers to her mouth and mimes turning a key before she settles back in her seat. She picks up her drink and sips it. “I suppose I should go rescue your girl before he tries to woo her away from you. Not that I think she’d go, but I think Bucky needs friends like you far more than he needs another conquest.”

“Well, I appreciate you having faith in Peggy’s powers of resistance. I like to think I can keep her interest pretty well.”

Natasha grins at him as she gets up, her hand resting on his shoulder briefly as she makes her way around him and toward the dance floor. Steve watches her go and cut in. Peggy leans in and gives Bucky a kiss on the cheek then uses her thumb to wipe away the lipstick stain even though Steve knows full well she didn’t actually leave one.

She slides into the chair next to Steve. “I think he’s giving Astaire a run for his money.”

“Nice for you to have someone who can actually dance, huh? In public, at least. I know you’ve got someone at home.”

“I never mind having you as a partner, which you well know.”

“I didn’t say having a partner. I said having one that can actually dance.”

“You’re not nearly as hopeless as you think you are.” She laughs at Steve’s raised eyebrow. “All right. All right. Yes. You are.”

“That’s better. Trust me, I’m well aware of all my shortcomings.” He smiles, but Peggy’s expression makes it clear she doesn’t buy it.

“It’s not a shortcoming, Steve.”

“Not sure what the hell else you’d call it.”

“It’s just another part of you.”

“What’s that?” Bucky sits down with a heavy breath. There’s sweat glistening at his temples, and a gleaming smile on his face.

“Nothing. Peggy here is trying to make me feel better about having two left feet. Apparently it’s intrinsic to my nature and, at some point, I’m going to have to learn how to embrace it.” Steve knows his smile is probably weak, and he can feel Peggy’s eyes on him. It reminds him of how unfair all of this is to her and to Sam, even though it benefits both of them.

“Maybe the problem is that it’s a woman trying to teach you. Not that I don’t think Peggy can’t lead. Might just be easier. I’d be happy to try before you give up on it all together. Dancing’s a hell of a good time.”

Steve shrugs. “Maybe.” He realizes he’s being somewhat rude. “Thank you.”

“I need someone to spell me while I have a drink.” He takes his glass from the table and drains it. “Get anything for anyone else?”

“No, thanks.” Steve shakes his head. “I’m at my limit. I have to deal with Howard in the morning.”

“I’d think you’d want to be more drunk rather than less.”

Peggy laughs and Steve shrugs. “He has you there, Steve.”

“Drunk, there’s no telling what I’d agree to.” He grins at them both. “Don’t let me stop you though. I think this dance might be slow enough that I can manage it, Peg, if you’re up for it. I promise I won’t step on your feet more than twice.”

“Well. Who could resist an offer like that?” She holds her hand out for Steve to take and follows him to the floor. He presses his hand in the small of her back, pulling her closer. She hums along with the music as she rests her head on his shoulder. “You should take him up on his offer.”

“Or I can resign myself to being doomed to the waltz for the rest of my days.”

“You’re impossible, you do know that, don’t you?”

“Kind of hard to forget when I have you and Sam reminding me all the time.” He kisses the top of her head. “Speaking of, how about I take you home and you can rescue your toes then finish the night dancing with your husband?”

He can feel her smile against his shirt. “I wish you would find someone.”

“Wouldn’t matter if I did. You’ll still be stuck with me.”

“I suppose there are worse fates.”

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or not.” He spins her out, away from him and pulls her back in. She laughs and leans into him again.

“Let’s go home, hm?”

**

_Saddle up at Stark Studios where Steve Rogers has been chosen to play the Marshal of a lawless town in the new film from Charles Vidor. Word on the street is that the script is a goldmine, and everyone knows Steve Rogers is an excellent man to have behind the star._

**

Enough of Hollywood goes to the Bali that it doesn’t bother Steve to go. He applauds the drag shows along with everyone else, and he knows he’s just another movie star looking for a little outrageous fun like all the rest. And, in most cases, he is. The pansy scene isn’t one he’s interested in. Even though it’s clear that the Mae West women are clearly men, that’s not what Steve’s looking for.

Not that he can have what he’s looking for. He’s not high enough on the food chain to have an ‘assistant’, and, given that he’d rather rot in hell – which, if his mother’s church is to be believed, he’s going to do anyway – than let Howard know the kind of companionship he’s looking for. He doesn’t think Howard would have an issue, and Steve’s relatively certain that Howard’s bedded a few pool boys of his own, but he’s not sure he could put up with Howard’s brand of ‘help’ or his lack of discretion.

He knows he catches an eye or two, but without the protection of a major studio, there’s no way Steve can take advantage of it. Before the last show, he slips out, too agitated and wanting to hang around and see what he absolutely can’t have.

He takes a cab home and takes off his suit jacket and dress shirt, hanging them both carefully on his valet. He’s halfway undressed, pants undone when the past several weeks, and Howard’s low blow catch up with him. Cursing under his breath, he leaves his dress pants on the floor and pulls on a pair of jeans and a sleeveless undershirt, tugging on a leather jacket over it.

He slips out the back door of his house, making his way through the darkness to a small shed that abuts his property. He wheels his motorcycle out and down the dirt road until he’s well away from his house then slides on, adjusting to the width of it between his legs, before he turns the engine over. He closes his eyes at the rush of vibration, at the rush of freedom, before he heads west to Santa Monica. He parks well off the main strip in the seedier part of town and starts walking. He avoids the better known bars, ending up in a small place where they serve watered down drinks, nobody asks questions, and nobody talks about what happens in the bathrooms.

The bar’s not crowded, but there are a few people that catch Steve’s eye. A thin blond that reminds Steve too much of himself, a slim brunet at the bar, and a dark haired man bent over the pool table, facing away from him. Steve orders a beer, the drink least likely to be watered-down and, thus, probably the strongest thing in the bar. Someone walks up to the brunet at the bar, forearm on his shoulder as he leans in. 

The blond has a mean look that Steve wants nothing to do with, so he carries his beer back to the pool tables, appreciating the view of the man bent over to take another shot, his jeans well-fitted and just the right side of too-tight.

Taking a drink, Steve walks around the table, smiles and nods at the guy’s opponent, a dark-skinned black man that Steve looks at just as appreciatively, which makes the guy’s eyebrows lift, and his smile is bright enough by itself, even without the glints of neon from the signs on the wall.

Steve takes another drink as he turns to look at the man, choking on it when he meets his eyes. He swallows roughly and coughs, trying to keep his expression neutral as he meets the wide, panicked eyes of James Barnes.

“You mind if I play the winner?” Steve takes a much smoother drink, turning to smile at the black man. He holds out his hand. “Joe.”

It’s clear that he knows exactly who Steve is, but his smile is genuine. “Ken.”

“Nice to meet you.”

His gaze runs appreciatively over Steve. “You too.”

Bucky holds out his hand. “George.”

Steve shakes his hand, and he’s not sure whose palm is damper – his or Bucky’s. “Hey.”

Ken nods toward the table. “Afraid you’re probably going to play George next round. He’s kicking my ass.”

Steve glances at the table to see it’s a bald-faced lie. “I don’t know. Looks like your balls are nicely positioned.”

Ken laughs loudly and throws his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “I wish, sweetie, but I’m pretty sure you and I are both playing to win.” His gaze drifts over to Bucky. “Now this guy, I think he’s more in it for the competition.”

He gives Steve his pool cue then heads toward the bar, patting Bucky’s ass as he goes past. He ducks his head, but Steve can still see the red flush staining Bucky’s cheeks. “Stripes or solids?” Steve asks.

“Stripes,” Bucky says softly. He looks up at Steve and straightens his shoulders. “And it’s my shot.”

“Don’t let me stop you from taking it.”

They play through three games, Bucky winning the first and Steve taking the next two. They go through three beers apiece, playing one long game of innuendo throughout. By the time Steve hangs the cue sticks and Bucky reracks the balls, they’re both breathing unsteadily and their gazes are bold and hungry.

“I’ve gotta piss,” Bucky says, tilting his head toward the bathroom. Steve smiles and nods, waiting a few moments before following him. Bucky’s just finished washing his hands as Steve opens the door and shuts it solidly behind him. Bucky swallows hard, tossing his towel in the trash. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Steve huffs a laugh. “Nothing really fancy about it.” He steps closer to Bucky, edging him against the sink. “What are you looking for here?”

Bucky has to tilt his head slightly to look at him with Steve this close. He drops his gaze to Steve’s lips, licks his own, then sinks down to the floor. Steve makes a soft noise as Bucky undoes Steve’s jeans, pushing them and Steve’s underwear down to mid-thigh. His fingers trail along the length of Steve’s cock, wrapping his hand around it. He slides his hand back toward the base, tugging the foreskin down so he can lick over the head, the tip of his tongue sweeping along the slit.

Bucky releases the foreskin then slips his tongue beneath it, tongue curved and trailing over the sensitive skin. Steve’s head falls back and he grabs the edge of the sink as Bucky closes his mouth over him, tongue still moving as he starts to suck.

“Holy…” Steve gasps, head falling back. He can feel the grin that stretches Bucky’s mouth, but it’s gone as quick as it started. Bucky focuses on Steve, lips tight as his head moves, taking Steve deep.

The sensitive head of his cock hits the back of Bucky’s throat and Steve feels him choke around him. He tries to pull back, but Bucky holds him still, short nails digging into Steve’s hips to keep him from moving.

Steve shivers from the heat of it, the wet slide along the length of Bucky’s tongue, the ridges of his palate. The barest hint of teeth scrape against his foreskin, and Steve’s grip on the sink tightens enough that his knuckles turn white.

Bucky’s hands start moving, from Steve’s hips down his thighs, and then back up, sliding beneath Steve’s shirt. Steve shivers and moves a hand to Bucky’s head, stroking shaking fingers through his hair. He keeps choking back the noises he can’t control. Bucky’s hands move again, around his sides to his back then down to his ass. 

“Fuck,” Steve bites out, his hand tightening in Bucky’s hair for a moment. Bucky scrapes his nails down the curve of Steve’s ass to the top of his thighs, and the hint of pain pushes Steve over the edge. He doesn’t even have a chance to warn Bucky as everything goes tight inside him, his blood pounding in his ears as he tries to pull Bucky back.

Bucky ignores him, holding on tight as he sucks Steve down. He pulls away before Steve’s completely finished and ends up with his lips parted, painted with the white of Steve’s come. Bucky licks his lips and rolls to his feet, standing in front of Steve. He’s slightly shorter, so when he looks up at Steve, his eyes are shadowed by his lashes. Without looking, he reaches down, tugging up Steve’s jeans and tucking him back inside, zipping and buttoning them. 

“Good as new,” Bucky says with a smile, his voice raspy. 

Steve takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, before he steps forward and pins Bucky to the wall. Keeping one hand on his shoulder, Steve reaches down and makes short work of getting Bucky’s pants open, pushing his underwear just under his cock so he can get a hand around it. Bucky’s head falls back and hits the wall as he goes up on his toes, pushing into Steve’s fist.

Steve stares into Bucky’s eyes as he works him over, watching them turn glassier, his pupils practically obliterating the blue. As Steve’s hand slides toward the base, the flushed, shiny head of Bucky’s cock slides along Steve’s palm, tugging at the foreskin as Bucky starts to rock his hips.

Bucky’s breath is stuttered, his whole body shaking, falling apart. A litany of ‘oh god, oh christ’ falls from his lips until he goes rigid. His mouth opens on a gasp as he comes with a hard shudder. Steve pulls his hand from where he has Bucky pinned and Bucky falls forward, his head settling on Steve’s shoulder as he tries to get his breath back.

Steve chuckles softly and guides Bucky back to the wall. He moves to the sink and turns on the water, running his hand beneath it. Once it’s clean, he looks down at his clothes and then over at Bucky’s. His pants are still open, though he’s managed to pull his underwear up to cover himself. As far as Steve can tell, whatever he didn’t catch in his hand didn’t land on them, so he dries his hands off and brings the damp towel over, running it carefully over Bucky’s lips.

“Okay?” He asks quietly. 

Bucky huffs out a soft breath and opens his eyes. He looks hazy, like he’s had too much to drink or something more illicit. “Yeah. Thanks for asking.”

Steve snorts a laugh, though he can feel the hints of awkwardness seeping in. He’s never actually run into someone he knows here, other than the familiar faces from previous trips to the bars. He’s not sure what to do, or what happens next.

“Don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” Bucky pushes off the wall into Steve’s space then moves around him toward the door. “Come on, I’ll buy the first round.”

**

They don’t talk much through two beers, but when Steve settles back at the table with a third for them both, Bucky exhales slowly. “Peggy know about this?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. She’s doing me a favor. Easier than dating girl after girl, hoping none of them want too much. Howard likes us together. Says I bring the wholesome and she brings the class.”

“What if she finds someone?”

Steve shrugs, Peggy’s secrets not his to tell. “We’ll work it out then, I guess.” Steve takes a few sips then sets his beer down. “What about you?”

“Nat knows. My agent. He doesn't have a problem with it, so long as I appear eligible. Go on a date or two. Let the ladies imagine that I could be theirs.” He shrugs. “Surprised they don’t want the same for you.”

“Well, I’ve got that all-American image. You know, family man.” Steve plays with his beer bottle and avoids Bucky’s eyes. “What happens now?”

“Not sure.” Bucky offers him a tight smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Keep each other’s secret, I guess. Pretend none of this ever happened?”

“Probably the smart thing to do.” Steve leans back in his seat, eyes narrowing slightly as he looks Bucky over. Bucky looks back at him, brow furrowing.

“What?”

“You could come over to my house tomorrow night. We could discuss it completely without an audience.”

Both of Bucky’s eyebrows lift and he leans forward across the table, his voice dropping low. “Discuss.”

Steve bites his lower lip then scrapes his teeth across it. He doesn’t miss the way Bucky’s eyes drop down to follow the movement. “Yeah. Over drinks. Maybe dinner. I make a mean pot of spaghetti.”

“Very glamorous.”

Steve shrugs. “It’s up to you. You’re welcome to come by. If not, I’ll just have spaghetti for a couple of days.”

Bucky leans back, rubbing his thumb along the neck of his beer bottle. “Not sure I’m looking for… Dinner.”

“Just dinner,” Steve says with a shrug. “Talk. We seem to get along well enough to have a conversation that isn’t the kind we want the public and the press overhearing. I can invite Peggy if you’d like.”

“I’d rather no one else know where we ran into each other, even if she knows where you go.” Bucky blows out a breath, and Steve waits, keeping his expression impassive. “I’ll think about it. Now.” He stands up and steps aside, pushing his chair in. “Time for me to go home.”

“Drive safe.”

“You too.” 

Steve watches him leave and sighs. His head hurts and the smoke from the bar isn’t helping. He’s a little too drunk to drive the bike, so he goes to the bar and orders a water, sitting back down at the table once he’s gotten it. He looks up as someone sits across from, not sure why he’s expecting it might be Bucky.

“You look like you could use a friend.”

“Already found one tonight.” The guy shrugs and Steve looks him over. It’s not one of the guys he’d seen earlier. This one’s a redhead with freckles across the bridge of his nose and a wicked smile. 

He waits until Steve’s done looking him over and raises one eyebrow, too cocky for his own good. “Can’t hurt to have another, could it?”

Without a word, Steve gets up and heads for the bathroom, not even a shred of doubt that the guy will follow.

**

“I see Ms. Carter kept you up all night, Mr. Rogers.” Carol, the make-up artist, says with a grin. “Got a few bags under those pretty blue peepers.”

“Ms. Carter is a lady, Carol. You know that.” 

She laughs. She’s worked with Peggy enough to know that she’s more likely than Steve to go off on a rant or curse like a sailor. “Of course. Silly me. But lady or not, she must have put you through your paces.” She puts foundation under his eyes, topping it off with a light dusting of powder. “You’re not supposed to take me more time than Ms. Hepburn.”

“Maybe I just stayed up all night so I’d have a reason to spend more time with you.”

She dabs him on the nose with the powder puff. “Flattery will get you nowhere. I’m not about to lay a hand on Ms. Carter’s man. I’d be scared for my life.”

“Probably smart.”

She laughs and eases the cloth from underneath his collar. “Scoot. I’ve got to pretend Ms. Hepburn needs some help in the looks department. I swear, between the two of you, I’m going to be out of a job.”

He winks at her. “Hence the bags. Gotta keep you employed.”

Steve waits while Katharine is in make-up, talking with some of the other actors. The set itself has been fun, the shoot, for the most part, running smoothly. Most likely because Howard has kept his distance since their conversation a couple of weeks ago. As clueless as he seems sometimes, Howard does seem to know when to make himself scarce.

DeMille calls a wrap for the day, and Steve changes out of his movie clothes and into his own. It’s not much difference – a short sleeved button-up rather than long sleeves, and no coat or tie – but it’s more comfortable and cooler even now that the klieg lights are turned off. Hepburn’s getting her make-up off, so Steve sits down, waiting his turn.

He glances at the clock, surprised at how late it is. He hadn’t suggested a time or offered his address, fairly certain that Barnes has no intention of taking Steve up on his invitation. Steve can call Sam when he gets home and see if anyone in Barnes’s camp has called for the information, but it seems pointless. Either he’ll show up or he won’t.

He gets home after a quick stop at the store for the makings of a salad and some garlic bread. In retrospect, he probably should have suggested steaks, but it’s a hell of a lot harder to mess up spaghetti than it is steaks, given what a disaster he tends to be at the grill.

He changes again, into jeans and a t-shirt this time, more comfortable still than anything he tends to wear when he’s going to be seen in public. Jeans apparently only fit his image if he’s got a pair of six-shooters strapped on. He reads the paper as the water boils and the noodles cook, his homemade sauce thawed from the freezer and simmering in a pan.

He’s startled by the doorbell, but he folds the paper carefully and goes to the door. Bucky is standing there, in slacks, a nice shirt, and a casual jacket, looking slightly uncomfortable, like he’s fairly certain he shouldn’t be there. Nonetheless, he holds up a bottle. “I know nothing about wine, so I asked around, and apparently pinot noir goes best with spaghetti, so I hope you were serious about what we’re having.”

“My cooking repertoire is pretty limited.” He steps back. “Come on in. Let me take your coat.”

Bucky hands him the wine so he can shrug out of his jacket, then swaps them. Steve hangs the jacket in the entryway closet and nods away from the door. He heads back toward the kitchen and, after a few moments, Bucky follows him.

“It’s almost ready. Just have to toss the salad together and finish up the bread. You want to open the wine? Corkscrew’s in the drawer next to the sink.”

Bucky opens the bottle while Steve slides the bread into the oven. Steve moves onto the salad, mixing it together then carrying it to the table. Bucky follows him, pouring the wine in the waiting glasses. “Were you that sure I’d come? And bring wine?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head as he goes back to the stove and grabs the pot of noodles, draining it into the colander already in the sink. “I have a bottle here. As for the other, I figured I should be prepared. Not hard to put everything away if you didn’t show.”

“I almost didn’t. I’m still not sure why I did.” 

Steve puts the noodles in a dish then carefully pours the sauce over it. Bucky takes it from him and Steve pulls the bread from the oven. The smell of garlic and oregano fills the room, and Steve’s stomach growls. It breaks the tension in the room, and they both laugh. “Well, at least we know that it wouldn’t have gone to waste if you didn’t.”

They sit down and there’s not much conversation as they pass the food around. Bucky hums after a few bites. “It’s good.”

“Thanks. My ma’s recipe. For the sauce, not the salad.” Steve grins, and Bucky rolls his eyes, putting the forkful of salad in his mouth. “She was Irish, not Italian, but we lived in a pretty immigrant-heavy area. Jews, Italians, Russians, Irish. A pretty… accepting area.”

“Brooklyn, right?”

“Yeah. Brooklyn Heights. Afraid my diction coach hammered the accent out of me.”

“I’m in the same boat. Park Slope.” Bucky takes a sip of his wine and settles back in his chair, relaxing at last. “You miss it?”

“Some. When my ma died, it sort of lost its appeal, and all I wanted was to be somewhere else. I was only fourteen though, so I ended up in an orphanage. Soon as I could I got out. Took a train to the farthest place I could afford, met Sam and Peggy, then ended up here. Met Howard, and he decided I was movie star material.”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong.” Bucky takes another sip then sets the glass down, looking at the burgundy liquid. “I ran away from home. Five kids was a lot and I knew my folks would never do anything about it, so I figured I’d make it easier on them. Got enough compliments that from people, telling me I might be good-looking enough to be the next Rudolph Valentino. Or ridiculous enough to give Keaton and Chaplin a run for their money.”

“I’d say you’re doing just fine in the Valentino department. Is there a gorgeous woman you haven’t starred with?”

“A few. Your Peggy, for one.”

“At least you get more than a desperate kiss before you go to war or ride out to defeat a notorious cowboy gang.” Steve grins. “If I get that much. Half the time it’s a hug and a longing look from her while I’m walking away.”

“Kissing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’ve started carrying Life Savers to give out. You’d think, given how good women usually smell, their breath would follow suit.” 

He gives an exaggerated shudder and Steve laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”

“You’re filming with Hepburn, right?”

“Yeah. ‘Far from Home’ is the working title. What about you?”

“I’ve got a few things lined up. Not sure which one’s going to come up first.” He wipes his mouth with his napkin then takes another drink. “Important questions now. Baseball team?”

“The Dodgers, who the fuck else?”

Bucky laughs. “There’s the Brooklyn in the boy.”

“You’re not going to say you’re a Yankees fan are you? Because I’ll kick you out on your ass before dessert.”

“Blasphemy. Dodgers all the way.” He watches as Steve takes his last bite and washes it down with some wine. “I’ll help you wash up.”

“I can get it.”

“My ma raised a gentleman. You want to wash or dry?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. “ Bucky smiles. “Wash or dry?”

“I know where things go, so dry, I guess.”

“Good. I prefer to wash.” He winks at Steve and carries his plate and glass to the sink. “I like the bubbles.” 

“Is that some sort of innuendo? Don’t think I’m familiar with it.” 

Bucky starts the water and rolls up his sleeves. “Far as I know it isn’t, but it should be. Popping bubbles.” He waggles his eyebrows and bumps his shoulder into Steve’s. “I’m sure we could think of something.”

Steve shakes his head. “Wash the dishes, Barnes.”

“You’re no fun at all.” 

Steve raises an eyebrow at that, and smiles when Bucky’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “Almost positive you had fun last night.” 

He’s not sure if he’s crossed a line, violated the rule of whatever this is supposed to be, but Bucky smiles in return. “Eh, it was all right.”

“All right, huh?” Steve dips his hand in the dishwasher then flicks droplets in Bucky’s direction. This time Bucky hip-checks him, turning his head to smile as he grabs the first plate.

**

They make it through dessert and the rest of the bottle of wine, talking about a mix of everything – from books to sports to work to childhood. Neither of them bring up the previous night again and, even though they’re both sitting on the couch, they’re at opposite ends. It’s after midnight when Bucky sighs, yawning immediately after. 

“I should call a cab.”

Steve nods and gets to his feet. “You’re welcome to stay.” He can feel himself flush when Bucky gives him a sharp look. “I’ve got a spare bedroom.” His smile is rueful. “Plausible deniability and all that.”

“And if someone says something? Asks?”

“You stayed late talking, we’d been drinking, it was easier to stay here for the rest of the night. Just the truth.”

Bucky yawns again and Steve follows suit. “Yeah. Okay.” He follows Steve up the stairs, stopping at the door Steve indicates. 

“Go on in. I’ll get you something to sleep in.” He goes to his room and digs out a spare pair of pajamas which are going to be too big for Bucky, but will be more comfortable than what he’s wearing now. He brings them in and hands them over. “Okay. Well. Goodnight.”

“That’s it?”

Steve looks at him, and Bucky’s head is tilted to the side. “Oh,” Steve nods. “Sorry. I had a really nice time tonight. I’m glad you came.”

“No, I mean.” Bucky frowns. “This really was just dinner?”

“There was dessert.”

Bucky laughs softly. “You’re something else, Rogers.”

“Thanks, I think. Get some sleep.” He gives Bucky a dirty grin. “Don’t go popping bubbles in my guest room.” He closes the door as he heads out into the hall, dampening the sound of Bucky’s laughter.

**

They have coffee in the morning then Steve drops Bucky off at Fox then continues on to Stark. Their paths don’t cross for several weeks, and Steve rarely thinks about their dinner. Today he’s not thinking of anything because it’s a miserable day, rain coming down in sheets. The power goes out halfway through the day, and they wait around for a while because they were supposed to wrap for good, but when it doesn’t come back after an hour, they all get dismissed to go home and come back tomorrow. They all groan and leave, Steve giving Katharine a ride home and begging off the drink she invites him in to have. He’s sure she’s just being polite, and he’s ready to be home.

There are three cars in his driveway and when he walks inside the house, Sam, Peggy, Natasha, and Bucky in his living room. It’s not the first time he’s come home to unexpected company, but he’s used to it just being Sam and Peggy. He shakes off his jacket and hat before hanging them up, then goes in to join them.

“Make yourselves at home.”

“Oh, we have.” Natasha holds up a wine glass and tilts it from side to side. “Good stuff.”

Peggy’s got her heels kicked off and her feet up on the couch. She’s leaning slightly toward Sam, who absolutely fails at not looking besotted. He assumes they’ve trusted Natasha and Bucky enough to tell them the truth about their relationship, since they’re failing at keeping it a secret here and now. “She’s right, darling. Was this just luck, or did you have someone who can actually tell the difference between wines pick it out for you?”

“Just lucky.” There’s heat burning his cheeks and he very deliberately doesn’t look at Bucky. Doesn’t think about how good he looks on Steve’s couch again. He ducks his head when he sees Bucky smile out of the corner of his eye. “Is there a reason I’ve been graced with everyone’s presence?”

“We ran into each other on the lot,” Natasha nods toward Peggy and then Bucky. “When the power went out, Peggy suggested we ride out the storm together.”

“Did she now?”

“You’ve got the most room. And the best wine, though that one was a gamble.” Peggy leans forward to grab the bottle and an empty glass. Sam has his arm around her waist to keep her from falling. “And a fireplace.”

“And you, Sam?”

“I came by to drop off a script to you. Dropped it on your bed to keep it away from prying eyes.” He raises an eyebrow at Bucky, but any accusation is offset by his gap-toothed grin. 

“I doubt Bucky’s looking to play… What is it this time? Lonesome cowboy, stalwart sheriff, or gruff military commander?” Steve sighs. “Sorry. I’m just going to go change. I’ll be back down.” He snags the glass of wine from Peggy. “Just to make sure I actually get some.”

He’s stripped down to his slacks and undershirt when there’s a soft knock on his door before it swings open. Bucky’s standing there, and his eyes roam over Steve’s body. “Bathroom still down at the end of the hall?”

“There’s one downstairs too.” His breath feels a little short, a little unsteady.

“Ah, but this one lets me have a chance at stealing that script from you.” He grins and comes into the room, leaning on the wall next to the door. “I’m sorry we invaded.”

“It’s fine. More than fine. Maybe we can tell ghost stories. Roast marshmallows… If I had some. Not a lot of call for them around here.” He runs his hand over his undershirt. It’s damp, but he’s hesitant to take it off in front of Bucky. “So. Bathroom?”

Bucky bites his lower lip. “The other night. That was a proposition, right?”

“It was getting to know each other. Being friends.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah. You told me you weren’t interested in dinner. Remember?”

Bucky slides the light pink tip of his tongue over his darker lips. “Yeah. But it _was_ a proposition. Right?”

Steve steps closer, his head slightly tilted as he looks Bucky over. “Do you want it to be one?”

“It’d be easier, wouldn’t it?” He shrugs. “Two bachelors hanging out. Be seen on the town with some lovely ladies. No one would question us hanging out together.”

“Easy. Convenient.” Steve smirks. “Just what I’ve always wanted to be.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” He exhales heavily. “I don’t know what I meant.”

“I think you meant that we’re friends. That we can hang around each other. You want to use hanging out with me as cover for going out of town for a night, that’s fine. Just let me know.”

“I’m not sure you’re real. You seem too good to be real.”

“I was real enough when you had my dick in your mouth.” Steve gives him a tight smile. “They’re going to wonder why you’re taking so long if you coming up here in the first place didn’t tell them all they needed to know. Go back downstairs, Bucky. Bathroom’s just down the hall on the left.”

Bucky leaves without any further comment. Steve closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths before going over and shutting the bedroom door. He strips out of all of his wet clothes and pulls on something more casual. He heads back down, but he stops at the top of the stairs to take another couple of breaths.

By the time he gets downstairs, he’s calmer and smiling. No matter how good the sex was or how much he enjoys their conversation, Steve’s not looking for what Buckyseems interested in. He’s not sure what exactly he’s looking for, but he doesn’t want a fake relationship – another one – even if it’s just a friendship contrived so it’s easier for him and Bucky to get laid either by each other or someone else.

He settles on the couch next to Peggy, hand resting on her ankle. She smiles at him, and there’s a faint blush on her cheeks, likely from the wine, but just as possibly from the fact that she’s relaxed against Sam and no one’s looking at them for it.

By the end of the night, they’re all flushed from laughing more so than the wine. Natasha has her head resting on the arm of her chair, feet curled up underneath her, fast asleep. Peggy’s head is in Sam’s lap, and he’s got a half-drunk smile of contentment on his face, his eyes closed. 

Steve gestures toward the kitchen and Bucky nods, following him in there and settling at the table. Steve sits across from him and glances out toward the living room. “We’re a group of misfits, aren’t we? Two queers, an illegal marriage, and a mistress.”

“At least we’re not boring,” Bucky says with a laugh. “And from what I know about our fellow actors and actresses, we’re not misfits so much as the status quo.”

“There’s got to be at least one person on the straight and narrow around here.”

Bucky thinks for a moment then shakes his head. “Nope. Don’t think so.”

They talk for another hour or two before they both admit to exhaustion. Steve offers him the guest bedroom again, since most of the other furniture is taken. Bucky looks over at the other three. “I feel bad. Should probably carry the girls upstairs and let them have the bed.”

“They’re sound asleep. I’ll grab some blankets and cover them up. Not our fault they don’t have the endurance we do.” Steve realizes the unintended innuendo in his words and flushes. 

“Don’t worry,” Bucky assures him. “I’m not going to take anything beyond face value.”

“It’s not you.” Steve chuckles as Bucky scoffs. “I just think what you want and what I’m looking for aren’t the same.”

“What exactly are you looking for?”

“A friend. A… Companion. Something more than sex. A relationship. A real one.”

“How are you supposed to have that?” Bucky leans against the wall, regarding Steve seriously, nothing flippant in his expression despite the fact that the question very well could be. 

“If I found someone, I guess… I could get a bigger place, a bit out of my price range. I’d need a roommate.”

“That’s not so different from my scenario.”

“I want to live with someone. Love someone. Despite what happened at the bar, I’m not looking for casual.”

“We’re friends. We could be roommates. Lovers.”

“I want a partner. The right partner.”

“And when the studio wants you to get married? Have kids? What then? Because they will, definitely with you, eventually with me.”

Steve steps forward and presses a soft kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll find him at some point, and we’ll work it out. Goodnight, Buck.”

“You hardly even know me. How can you think that I’m the one you might want that with?”

“I think we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well, and not just at the bar.” The corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. “Though that helped too.” 

“Well, I’m really good at that.” Bucky smiles brightly. “If I do say so myself. I mean, never had a complaint.”

“I like you. And it’s not like we can have some sort of courtship.”

“I don’t know. I get a suspicion that that’s what you’ve been doing, intentionally or not.”

“Maybe. But, like I said, you’ve made it clear you don’t want that.” 

“What if.” Bucky reaches out and rests his hand on Steve’s forearm “Now that I’ve gotten to know you, what if I’ve changed my mind?”

“Then tomorrow, when we’re both completely sober, we can talk about it again.” He lifts his hand and brushes some of Bucky’s hair back off his forehead. “Night.”

Bucky reaches out and catches Steve’s hand before he can pull it back. Lifting it to his mouth, Bucky presses a soft, warm kiss to Steve’s palm. It takes everything in Steve not to shiver, and he steps back, easing his hand from Bucky’s grip. Bucky nods. “Night.”

**

The morning is a crush of too many people in too little space. Steve had forgotten to set his alarm, so they all end up rushing out the door, only Steve in a new outfit. Peggy and Natasha are both headed to Warner Brothers so they ride together. Bucky looks frustrated as he gets in his car, looking at Steve. Steve waves before he slides into the passenger seat of Sam’s car.

The drive feels longer than it is as Sam keeps casting glances at Steve. “What is it, Sam?”

“Just wondering what you’re doing.”

“Regretting that last glass of wine, and wishing I’d known better than to mix it with something stronger.” 

“Well, you should know better. But I meant regarding Barnes.”

“We started hanging out. Seem to get along.”

“Are you fucking?”

“I’m not sure that was crass enough. You want to give it another go?”

Sam rolls his eyes and his hands tighten on the wheel for a moment. “Are you having intimate relations with Barnes, Steve?”

Steve’s quiet for a long moment as they get waved through the gate at Stark Studios. “No. We ran into each other a few weeks ago, but nothing since then. We’ve really just been getting to know each other. Becoming friends.”

Sam pulls to a stop outside of the building they’re filming in. He parks and turns in his seat so he’s looking at Steve. “You’re looking for fairy tales. None of this is easy. Pretending. Hiding. I see you and Peggy at premieres and I know that’s never gonna be me on her arm. I know that I can be liked, even respected, but I know I can’t let anyone know how much she means to me. That’s what you’re looking at.”

Steve nods, his jaw tight. He worries about Sam and Peggy, knows how hard their relationship is, knows how people would react if they were found out. Still, he tilts his head and looks over at Sam. He can see the pain in Sam's face, the shininess of tears in his eyes. Tears Steve knows that Sam won't let fall.

Steve smiles, his voice soft. “She’s worth it though, isn’t she?”

"Yeah, man," Sam says, his voice thick with emotion. "Yeah. All that and more.”

“That’s what I want. I know there aren’t any guarantees. But until I try… _Unless_ I try, I’m looking forward to a lifetime of bathrooms with anonymous, faceless men. And maybe it’s not him. Maybe we’d be a disaster, but, God, Sam. I just want a chance to find out.”

“You really like this guy.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I do. I don’t know what it is or why, but he just feels right. Like he fits.”

“How does he feel? What does he want?”

Steve looks over at the hangar doors leading to the set so he doesn’t have to meet Sam’s eyes. “I don’t know. Not sure if he does. But he knows what I’m looking for. The ball’s in his court. And… Even if it doesn’t work out, I’ve got a friend out of the deal. Can’t have too many friends, huh?”

“Yeah, well you won’t be making any on the set if you don’t get your ass in gear. Go on. I’ll pick you up tonight and we’ll grill something so Peggy doesn’t have to pretend to be domestic.”

“Okay.”

“Now, go make some money so I can get my cut.”


	2. 1936

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Cocreator - odetteandodile

**Stark Contract: -3**

Five weeks of nights out on the town, dinner parties, a drunken night of Natasha’s split from Fairbanks, and another of finding out that Peggy miscarried, and Steve is running out of self-preservation instinct and resistance. He likes Bucky far more than he should, and it gets harder and harder to leave or watch Bucky walk out his door. 

He knows it’s hopeless. Knows that Bucky’s not interested in more. He’s not even sure if he’s still interested in anything with Steve, even sex. Steve’s doing his best to shield himself for when the inevitable happens and he either goes too far, Bucky gets tired of dealing with him, or Bucky finds someone else. Steve hasn’t been to any of the bars, which might actually help him get past everything, but somehow it just feels wrong.

He doesn’t know what Bucky’s doing. That’s part of why he hasn’t been going, if he’s honest with himself. Even if it’s nonsensical and unfair, seeing Bucky with someone else, even casually, feels like more than he can handle. 

Christ, he needs to get over himself before he loses Bucky’s friendship entirely.

Fortunately, his schedule picks up, and he starts filming another movie. Another western. He goes out of town for three weeks for the shoot, and by the time he gets home from the Mojave Desert, he never wants to see a horse, a tumbleweed, or sand ever again.

He takes a shower, pretty sure he still has sand all over him and in places it certainly shouldn’t go, then heads to the kitchen to see if there’s anything to eat. He might be able to scrape together a sandwich, and, if it means not leaving his house, he’s all for it. 

He opens the fridge door, sighing when the doorbell rings. He unlocks it and is about to tell the salesman or Girl Scout that he doesn’t want or need anything, but the words freeze in his mouth. “Bucky.”

Bucky holds up a bag. “I have Chinese food.”

“You’re a saint.” Steve backs up. “Come in.” He’s only in sweats and a T-shirt, but Bucky’s dressed down, so he doesn’t feel too awkward. 

“Hope you have beer. I didn’t have enough arms.”

“Yeah. Give me a few. Why don’t you get set up in the living room. I’ll grab plates and beers.” When he comes back out, Bucky has a buffet spread out on Steve’s coffee table, far more food than either of them can likely eat. “I did eat while I was gone, you know.”

“You didn’t eat Mr. Lee’s food. Sit.”

Steve does as he’s told, listening to the latest Hollywood gossip that he missed. Bucky gives everything a nice dramatic flair, and Steve nearly chokes on his food during a story about Joan Crawford and Cary Grant. Bucky slaps him on the back while Steve takes a drink of his beer. 

After they finish eating, Bucky leans back against the arm of the sofa, turned slightly so he’s looking at Steve. Steve raises an eyebrow in response. Bucky nods then leans down, picking a folder up from the floor. “Here.”

Steve takes it, frowning. “What is it?”

“Open it up, genius.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but does as he’s told. He leafs through the papers, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s this?”

“Listings. For houses.”

“I can see that. I don’t get it.” He looks at Bucky for a long time, his eyes opening wide as Bucky smiles. “You’re serious?”

Bucky nods. “I really fucking missed you.”

“Oh,” Steve says quietly.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky’s smile fades slightly, but he doesn’t look away. “Do you still…I mean, are you still…”

“It depends,” Steve says quickly, stopping Bucky before he can say more. He keeps looking through the papers, only glancing up when Bucky speaks again.

“On?”

Looking at him is difficult. Steve wants to see too much in his eyes. “What exactly you’re looking for here.”

Bucky reaches out and takes the folder from Steve, setting it aside on the coffee table. Steve watches him, can’t look away, eyes moving down to Bucky’s hands, focusing on every movement. He knows, whatever Bucky says, he’s not going to forget it, forget anything about this moment. For better or worse, it’s going to matter.

“Well,” Bucky takes a deep breath and looks away as Steve looks up to try to meet his eyes. Steve’s stomach sinks, until Bucky looks back at him. “It depends on how long it’s going to be before they make you marry Peggy.”

“Peggy’s already married.”

“This is Hollywood, land of make believe.”

Steve sighs. He knows Bucky’s right. “A while. Even though they want me to seem unattainable, they’re not going to push me to actually be that way.” He watches Bucky, shifting to look at him directly.

“Well, then you’re still a bachelor. So we make it a party place. Invite lots of people. Make it the place to be on the weekends.”

“That’s not what I’m…”

Bucky reaches out and rests his hand on Steve’s jaw, thumb sliding over his lower lip. “The rest of the time it’s just ours. Two friends living in the same house, holding off on marriage.”

“Our own version of Pickfair?”

Bucky shrugs. “Something like that.”

Steve leans in toward the back of the couch, not moving away from Bucky’s touch, his thumb moved up to brush Steve’s cheek. “And these parties we’re hosting. Are we… Are we inviting people who won’t go home at the end of the night?”

“I missed you,” Bucky says softly, just above a whisper, just between them though there’s no one else in the house. “I missed being with my friend. I thought about you. More than I expected to. More than before, and I’d already been thinking about you a lot. No place else, no one else feels as right. Even our little cabal doesn’t feel right when you’re not there.”

Steve sighs, giving Bucky a weak attempt at a smile. “That isn’t an answer to my question.”

Bucky groans softly and shakes his head. “Only to someone as deliberately stubborn as you.” He leans in, replacing his thumb on Steve’s lips with his warm breath. “The only person I want to stay overnight, the only person I want to be there when I wake up? Is you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky groans again, closing the slight distance between them, pressing a kiss to Steve’s mouth. It’s soft and chaste, a question. “I know you’re stubborn, but I’m beginning to wonder if you’re being willfully stupid.”

“Scared.” Another secret breathed out between them. 

“I’m scared too. There’s a lot to be scared about. I’ve… I’m no innocent, you know that. But I’ve never had something like this before, never even tried.” Bucky brings his other hand up, framing Steve’s face. “Never wanted to until now.”

“Didn’t seem like you wanted it now.”

“Well, if you ask Natasha, she’ll be more than happy to tell you I’m an idiot.” He strokes Steve’s cheekbone with his thumb. “Guys like us don’t get to have this. I’ve known that my whole life. I never _let_ myself want it.”

Steve closes his eyes and tilts his head into Bucky’s light touch. “I… I’m not sure what to say.”

Bucky brushes another light kiss against Steve’s mouth. “Say yes.”

Steve wants to, more than anything, but he can’t quite make the words. “I guess it won’t hurt to look at places.”

“You’re the worst person ever.” Bucky’s smiling, and Steve can’t help returning it. “Say yes, Steve.”

He nods, still not moving from Bucky’s touch. “Yes.”

**

_The biggest hot spot in town these days isn't the latest club or restaurant. It's the new home shared by James Barnes and Steve Rogers. The boys promise to host a non-stop party for all the other bachelors and hopeful brides-to-be._

**

“There something you need to tell me, Rogers?” Howard snaps just as Steve walks into his office.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You look very handsome today?”

“Yeah. Figured you’d say that.” He slaps a newspaper down on his desk. “You want to explain this to me?”

Steve skims the column Howard points at. “Hopper’s on a rampage against Davis?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” He stands up and leans on his desk. His eyes are narrowed, his jaw tight. “You and Barnes are shacking up? When did this happen? When were you going to tell me you’re a pansy?”

Steve clenches his fists at his side. “Peggy and I are happy together, Howard. Barnes and I were both looking for a bigger place, and Pegs and I aren’t looking to get married yet.”

“Bullshit.” 

“Why would I lie?”

“Because you like to take it up the ass and that’s a death knell around here? We’re not MGM or Warner’s. Someone goes digging? I don’t have the clout to cover for you. Right now your only saving grace is that Barnes’s star is on the rise.” 

“That’s because they give him more to do than - ” Steve takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Makes me wonder if _you’re_ hiding something, because you’re jumping to some pretty damning conclusions here. We’re friends. We both wanted a bigger place, and neither of us could afford something by ourselves. His star’s on the rise, right? Which means he needs a place to entertain and he’s not quite up there on the pay scale. We’re just combining our resources.”

“You not making enough? You bitch at Wilson. He negotiated your contract. You saying you have a problem with my studio?”

“Jesus, Howard. Are we done?”

“You want out of your contract, Rogers? Just say the word. Not sure anyone else is willing to take you on.” Howard is practically snarling. “And I sure as hell don’t know why you think any of the others will give you more than what you get with me. You’re a one-trick pony. A pretty face that looks good in a cowboy hat.”

“I said are we done?” The words come out through gritted teeth, and Steve knows that if he doesn’t walk out the door soon, he’s going to eventually regret the swing he takes at Howard.

Howard waves at the door, effectively dismissing him. Steve doesn’t slam it despite the desire to. He does slam his car door, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he drives off the lot. He goes home and works his way through a glass and a half of scotch before he calls Sam.

“Falcon Agency. How may I help you?”

“Hey, Lorraine. It’s Steve Rogers. Sam in?”

“Hello, Steve.” She practically purrs the words, and Steve’s glad he called instead of stopping by. “Let me see if Mr. Wilson’s in his office.”

She puts him on hold and he swallows down the rest of his drink as he walks to refill it. Sam picks up just as Steve’s settling back in his seat. 

“Rogers. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“How solid is my contract with Stark?”

“Whoa. Hang on. Let me shut my door.” He can hear Sam tell Lorraine to hold his calls and the door shut before he comes back to the phone. “What’s going on?”

“Simple question, Sam.” He takes another drink, smaller this time. “How solid.”

“You’ve got another four years to go, unless you can convince him otherwise.”

Steve swallows and drops his head onto the back of the couch. “And no offers to buy out my contract, right?”

“I’m sorry, Steve. The whole town knows Howard doesn’t negotiate unless he wants something.” He’s quiet for a moment. “What’s this about?” When Steve doesn’t answer, Sam sighs. “Moving?”

“It got ugly.”

“Do I need to go talk to him?”

“I’m hoping it was just a heat of the moment sort of thing.”

“Tell you what. I’ve got a lead on some scripts getting shopped around. Let me see what I can do.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey. Whatever Howard said, you have to remember that he’s a first-class asshole. He makes a business of knowing the places to sink the knife in. Doesn’t mean a damn word of it’s true.”

Steve nods, even though Sam can’t see him. “Doesn’t mean it’s not either.”

“Do me a favor, huh? Whatever you’re drinking? Stop. And stop for the rest of the night. I’ll get the other three together and we’ll descend on you like the plague.”

“Thanks, Sam, but no. Think I need the night to myself.”

“Hmm.” Sam hums. “Promise you’ll put the bottle away, huh? You can be a morose drunk.”

“Hey, you work for me, not the other way around.” 

Sam snorts. “You keep believing that, blue eyes. We’ve got ourselves a symbiotic relationship.”

“Symbiotic, huh? I see Peggy’s doing her best to make a cultured man out of you. I’ll have to wish her luck, because I know that’s not an easy job.”

He can tell Sam’s grinning, proud that he’s lightened Steve’s mood. “I know it’s asking a lot here, but don’t go off half-cocked and sabotage your whole career because you’re pissed at Howard.”

“That’s why I’m home. And, you’ll be proud to know, I didn’t punch his smug lights out.”

Sam sniffs dramatically. “Is my boy growing up?”

“Good _bye_ , Samuel.”

Sam blows him a kiss over the phone, a loud smacking sound in Steve’s ear. Steve manages a laugh before he hangs up. He walks over to the bar and leans against it, opening the scotch again and running the pad of one finger over the rim. Sam’s not wrong. When he’s in a mood like this, booze just makes it worse. It doesn’t stop him from pouring himself another glass, but this one he takes back to the couch and sips, taking deep breaths between each of them to try and release his tension.

He’s still sitting there an hour later, the ice in his glass melted though the condensation has dried. He’s more relaxed, but he still feels like he’s on the edge of something, and he knows he should eat something, just like he knows he won’t be able to sleep. At least he’s gotten past the urge to call Howard and tell him exactly where he can shove his contract, which he knows Sam, at least, will be grateful for. 

Sam would be fine, Steve’s not worried about that. Sam the agent does and will continue to do well. Sam his friend would fret like an overprotective mother. He already knows that, as soon as Sam tells Peggy, she’s likely going to read Howard _and_ Steve the riot act.

The knock on the door startles him out of his thoughts, and he levers himself off the couch to answer it. He’s had too much to drink and he feels it, swaying slightly as he walks. He opens the door and leans on it, surprised but happy. He grins at Bucky. It’s probably lopsided and stupid, which is much how he feels right now. “Hey.”

“You are drunk.” Bucky tilts his head, obviously curious. 

“You are correct.” Steve’s very precise in his diction, careful still at keeping the Brooklyn out of his voice. “I am, in fact, very drunk.”

“Can I come in?”

“You probably shouldn’t. People will talk.” He snorts a laugh. He goes up on his toes and looks over Bucky’s shoulder, talking loudly. “Any photographers? Gossip columnists? Digging up dirt on two friends sharing a house?”

“Ooooo-kay.” Bucky puts his hand against the center of Steve’s chest and pushes slightly, guiding him back. “Let’s talk inside.”

Steve stumbles slightly as Bucky lets him go so he can turn around and shut the door. Steve manages to stay upright, though he does have to grab onto the table, which makes his keys rattle in their dish. After locking the door, Bucky turns around and looks Steve over, gaze moving up and down his body then up again so he can meet his eyes.

“First of all, let’s sit down before you fall down.”

“I am perfectly stable. Like a horse.” He giggles, which is something he didn’t know he could do. Bucky shakes his head and takes Steve’s hand, guiding him back to the couch, waiting until Steve’s seated before he settles next to him.

“So, what brought on the – “ Bucky pauses and picks up Steve’s glass, sniffing it. “Scotch?”

He looks at Bucky through slightly unfocused eyes. “D’you know I’m a pansy?”

Bucky bites his lips together, lets out a slow breath, and nods. “I think the blowjob and handjob gave that away.” 

That reminds Steve that they haven’t slept together again – yet? - and he frowns, brow furrowing. He shakes it off, which makes him lightheaded. “Did you know your – “ Steve pokes Bucky in the chest. “Star is on the rise? And I’m a one-fucking-trick pony hack of an actor? My star’s not getting any higher than the badge on my fucking chest.”

“What the fuck?” Bucky snaps, glaring at Steve. “Who said that?”

Steve laughs, sways forward, and whispers in Bucky’s ear. “Howard Stark. That beacon of virtue who won’t let me _be_ anything more, because I make him money. I’m the lowest common denominator.”

“Steve.”

“Nope. Nope. Might want to find another roommate. Don’t want to tarnish your reputation.” He laughs again, bitter and sad all at once. Then, like the air going out of a balloon, he sags against the back of the couch, head tilted and eyes closed. 

“None of that, none of what Howard said is true. Except the bit about my star.” Bucky hums his amusement, then his voice turns serious again. "You’re an amazing actor. People see that. What Howard doesn’t see is that, if he’d let you, you could act rings around most of Hollywood. Be the next Gable. Better – the next Spencer Tracy.”

Steve opens one eye. “Tracy?”

“You know he’s going to go far. And that can be you. That will be you if Howard gets his head out of his ass.”

“Not likely.”

“You wait. The one with Hepburn’s going to show him. Show everyone that you might ride a one-trick pony, but you sure as hell aren’t one.”

Eyes closed again, Steve grins wickedly. “You wanna ride a one-trick pony?”

Bucky sputters a laugh. “Oh my god.”

Smile fading slightly, Steve keeps his eyes closed, not sure he wants to look at Bucky as he asks, “Why haven’t you? We?” He can hear the soft rustle of fabric, so he doesn’t startle when Bucky’s hand touches his.

“Because we spent time actually getting to know each other. Be friends.”

“What about when we decided to get the house?”

“We started necking and you fell asleep on me, almost like you’d been awake and working for hours before you got home. And right now, you’re very, very drunk. Even if you said yes – “

“I will.”

“Even if you said yes, you’re not in any state to actually say yes.”

Steve leans in, eyes still closed, and brushes his mouth against Bucky’s. “Want it. Want you. ‘ve wanted you since the first time. The first moment.”

“I want you too, just as long.” Bucky pulls back and swipes his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip. “But I want both of us involved, one-hundred percent.”

Steve presses a kiss to Bucky’s thumb then takes it into his mouth, sucking lightly. Bucky groans softly and eases it free of Steve’s mouth. “What about kissing? We can do kissing, hmm?”

“You’re a menace.” Bucky gets to his feet and Steve finally opens his eyes and he slides his lower lip out in a pout. 

“Come back.”

“Nope.” He takes Steve’s hand and guides him to his feet. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“But you just said no.”

“I can only take a guy falling asleep while we're making out so many times.” He leans in and kisses the tip of Steve’s nose. “The first one was a blow to my ego. No telling what would happen if you did it again. Now, come on.”

Steve reluctantly lets Bucky pull him upstairs, still pouting as he makes Steve lay down. Steve won’t let go of his hand, so Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, brushing Steve’s bangs off his face. Steve turns into the touch, nuzzling Bucky’s palm. “Stay?”

“What time do you want your alarm set for?”

Steve slumps back against the mattress. “Four. I’ve got an early call.”

“You are going to regret tonight so much in about five hours.” He sets Steve’s alarm and then stands, walking to the door and turning out the bedroom light. “Night.”

**

Steve wakes up miserable, goes to work miserable, and stays that way until he’s had about four cups of coffee from the craft services table. Even then, it feels like there’s some sort of stampede in his head, especially when they’re setting up shots – everyone yelling direction and demands, shouting over the clanging of machinery.

He finishes his pick-ups then leaves the lot, heading to Morton’s for lunch. It feels even louder there, but not as jarring. His head still hurts, but hopefully food will help. He’s about to ask for a table when he gets waved over by Will Rogers, who’s sitting with Buster Keaton. Steve’s never met Keaton, so he reaches across the table to shake his hand.

Even smiling, Keaton looks dour, and Rogers looks like he doesn’t know how not to smile. He introduces them, and both he and Steve tell Keaton simultaneously that there’s no relation. It makes Will laugh, even though they’ve done it at least a hundred times before. 

Lunch is nice and the food does help, if nothing else, calming the reaction his stomach has from the bad studio coffee. Keaton is as wry as he seems he would be, and the company does wonders putting Steve back in balance. Will insists on paying the check, no matter how much Steve and Buster protest, so they give in gracefully. Eventually.

They’re almost at the door when it opens and Bucky comes in. Steve’s smile freezes slightly as he’s followed by Cary Grant who has his hand in the small of Bucky’s back. Grant’s sexuality isn’t discussed, but he’s got enough clout behind his name that it doesn’t matter that it’s an open secret. There have been rumors swirling that Bucky might be up for a role in Grant’s next movie, so seeing them together isn’t a surprise.

What is a surprise is the bolt of jealousy that goes Steve, lodging somewhere in his chest. It’s ridiculous, even though Bucky clearly fits Grant’s type. Steve’s not conceited enough to think someone would choose him if Grant were on offer, but Bucky greets Steve no differently than he normally does in public, though his smile seems a little more open. Still, the possessive way Grant’s hand sits so comfortably against Bucky’s spine makes Steve far more uncomfortable that he wants to admit.

Embarrassed, Steve says goodbye to everyone and excuses himself to the restroom in hopes to hide for a few minutes until his blush fades. He’s about to leave, when the door opens, and Bucky steps inside. He shakes his head at Steve, not saying anything, as he pushes Steve back into a stall and locks it behind them.

“Your nose wrinkled like you smelled something bad. Cary’s afraid you don’t like him.”

“Cary, huh?”

“Well, he dislikes being called Archibald.” Bucky smiles and shakes his head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Thank you?”

“Trust me, I’m not interested in him – as Cary or Archibald or Archie or anything else he wants to be called. Besides, Scott’s good with a sword, and I like all my body parts intact and unharmed.” He kisses Steve quickly. “Now, I’ll see you tonight at the new place, okay?”

“Are we christening it?”

Bucky’s eyebrows lift and he kisses Steve again. “As soon as there’s a bed.”

“There are other flat surfaces.” 

Bucky inches closer until there’s nothing between them except fabric. Despite being so close, his voice drops down to a whisper. “The first time I have you inside me is not going to be bent over a counter.” He steps back and grins wickedly. “Second time, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Mm. Depends on how many rounds we go when we’re in bed.”

Steve groans low in his throat and moves forward, pressing Bucky back against the door. Tilting his head down, his breath brushes over Bucky’s lips. “You’ll be lucky if I ever let you out of bed.” He kisses Bucky then, hard and deep, and Bucky grasps Steve’s shoulders, nails digging in. When he pulls away, Bucky looks thoroughly dazed.

“Jesus,” he breathes before swaying in and kissing Steve again. He pulls away this time, licking his lips like he can still taste Steve on them. “I need to get back out there.”

“Mm. Wouldn’t want to keep Cary waiting.”

“Asshole.” He reaches behind him and unlocks the stall door, moving to the sink and splashing water on his face. Steve watches him for a moment, smiling when Bucky looks up from the sink and catches his eyes in the mirror. “I’ll see you tonight.”

**

Steve spends the afternoon with Peggy, both of them packing up his things while she calls Howard every name in the book. A few of them have to be British, because he’s not sure what they mean, but given the venom in her voice, they’re likely worse than the ‘cock-sucking mother fucker’ she’d first called him when she walked in the door.

Halfway through a bottle of wine, with her voice hoarse, she finally seems to run out of insults. The quiet’s a surprise and Steve looks up from where he’s packing linens in a box. She sighs and shakes her head. “You deserve better than him.”

“He’s no worse than the rest of the studios. We’ll make it work though. Throw enough parties, have enough women over - ”

“Should I be jealous?”

“You know you’re my number one girl, Peg.” He goes over and hugs her, kissing her temple. “If I didn’t like Sam so much, I’d totally steal you away.”

“Given that you’re more likely to like Sam than me, I’ll take it for the compliment it’s intended as opposed to a slight on my womanhood.”

Steve laughs. “Please do.” He goes back to packing, but stops after a while, his brain spinning in circles. He leans against the wall then slides down it to sit on the floor, running his hand over a folded pillowcase. “What do you really think?”

Peggy comes out of the guest bedroom and sets down the box she’s carrying before walking over to Steve and sitting on the ground next to him. “I think you deserve to be happy, and I think he’ll make you happy. I think he does make you happy. You just need to be careful, and I know you’re not exactly the best at that.”

“I’m not going to do anything that would ruin his career.”

“Or your own.”

“Or my own.” 

“I wish this could all be easy for you. That people would understand.”

“I don’t care if they don’t understand. I just want them to leave us alone.” He tilts and rests his head on her shoulder. “Pretty sure we can’t have that either. At least not for long.”

She takes his hand and threads their fingers together. “None of us gets a promise that it’ll last for long.”

“Some of us have a better shot at it.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be you if you gave up easily, so I imagine you two have one of those better shots. Now. Up off your arse and start packing or you’re never moving anywhere.”

** 

The movers are quick and efficient, and it’s not long before Peggy, Sam, and Natasha show up, all willing to help and, even better, with beer and sandwiches. After they eat, Natasha takes over the kitchen, Sam starts moving furniture around in the living room with Bucky’s help, and Steve heads up to the bedrooms. He and Bucky haven’t actually discussed how the logistics of all of this will work. Prior to this, being in the house usually involved lying on the floor and making out desperately, jerking each other off and whispering how soon it’d be just them, their own place, living together, sleeping together, _being_ together.

He looks from one room to the other and then to Peggy. She outright laughs at him. “You’ve not given this an ounce of thought, have you?”

“The whole point is to share a bedroom.”

“Yes, that’s all well and good, Steve, but appearances require that one bedroom is very clearly his and one is very clearly yours.” Steve just looks at her, so she rolls her eyes. “Bucky, could you come up here, please?”

Bucky jogs up the stairs, sweat dampening his hair, a single curl clinging to his forehead. Steve smiles an undoubtedly stupid and smitten grin, and Bucky’s skin takes on the hint of a blush that Steve is pretty sure has nothing to do with moving furniture.

“You rang, Madame?”

“Which bedroom is yours?”

Bucky looks from her to Steve, his brow furrowed. “We’re… I’m pretty sure we’re sleeping together. Unless the plan changed?”

“Oh, dear god. There’s two of you. I’m not asking where you’re sleeping. I’m asking which bedroom is yours. People are curious. People are going to snoop. People are going to sneak up your stairs and dig through your secrets. Therefore.” She points at each of them in turn. “Bucky bedroom. Steve bedroom.”

“Oh. Yeah. Um. That one’s mine.”

“Why do you get the master bedroom?” Steve huffs.

Bucky blinks at him. “Remember the part where we’re sleeping in the same bed? It’s all for looks. Besides, this was all my idea.”

“Pretty sure it wasn’t.”

“I am going to help Sam,” Peggy puts a hand on each of their chests and pushes them apart. “You two argue about this all you’d like, but when I come back up here, I fully expect this to be all worked out and dealt with.”

Once she’s gone downstairs, Bucky gives Steve a wide-eyed look and Steve shakes his head. “Fine. Take the master bedroom.”

“I have the bigger bed.”

“And why is it you have such a large bed, exactly?”

Bucky bats his lashes and walks closer, putting his hands on Steve’s hips. “Because I’m a sought-after bachelor who has no choice but to take beautiful woman after beautiful woman to his bed.”

Both of Steve’s eyebrows go up. “Is that so?”

“I know it’s hard for you to hear given that you’re tied down to one person – as lovely as she is.”

Steve steps forward and crowds Bucky against the wall. His voice drops to a growl as he grabs Bucky’s wrists and pins his arms above his head. “Starlet after starlet?”

Bucky’s eyes close for a moment before he meets Steve’s gaze again, his pupils dilated. He exhales roughly. “Y-yeah.”

“So your bed’s gotten quite the workout, has it?”

“Jesus, just kiss me. Please.” Bucky arches off the wall, but Steve pulls his hips back to keep distance between them. 

“We have work to do.” He drops Bucky’s hands and takes a step back toward his new bedroom. Bucky whines and flips Steve off when he smiles. “You’ll have to introduce me to all these beautiful women you’re sleeping with. Maybe one of them has a friend.”

Bucky tsks. “What would poor Ms. Carter say?”

“Get to work,” Peggy snaps at them from the foot of the stairs. “ _That’s_ what she’d say. I swear, you’re both complete and utter children. Sam, I think I married the only male adult in Hollywood, if not the entire state of California. Perhaps the whole bloody US.”

“You hear that?” Sam calls as he comes up behind Peggy, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder while sticking his tongue out at Steve and Bucky. “I’m an adult.” 

“Only in comparison, darling. It’s a very low bar.” She turns her head and kisses Sam’s cheek. “Now, all of you, get back to work.”

Both Steve and Bucky start pouting but they go into the separate bedrooms, working at setting them up, though they go back and forth as they find each other’s boxes. The other three come up with beers and they all sit on Bucky’s bed. Peggy tests the mattress, bouncing on it lightly. 

“This is by far better than Steve’s bed.”

“Hey!” Sam glares at Steve. “Why has my wife been on your bed?”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Steve turns up his nose. “I am a gentleman.”

“Someone get this man a dictionary, because he’s got his definitions all screwed up.” Sam leans against Peggy and they sway together slightly. “But, speaking of beds, I think we’re going to head off to ours. Test out our mattress.”

“I take back everything I said,” Peggy informs him. “You’re just as bad as they are.” She stands up and slips her shoes back on. “But you’re also not wrong.”

Natasha stands up as well. “I don’t know why I put up with any of you. I need to re-evaluate all my life choices.” Leaning over, she gives Bucky a kiss on the cheek then does the same to Steve. “Now, we’ll leave you two alone like you’ve probably been wishing we would since this afternoon, though I’ll remind you that, at least this way you got something done.”

“We would have gotten things done,” Bucky says defiantly.

“Things besides each other, Barnes.” She winks at him and Steve gets up to follow the three of them downstairs. Bucky groans and nudges Steve until they both get up and trudgs after them, Bucky sighing dramatically with every step. When they get downstairs there’s another round of hugs and kisses, and then Steve shuts the door behind them and locks it.

Bucky waits a moment and then yawns and stretches. “Well, I’m bushed. I think I’ll head to – oof!” Steve grabs Bucky around the waist and slings him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, knocking the breath out of Bucky. 

“You’ll head to bed,” Steve finishes his statement, in complete agreement. “Your ridiculously large bed where you spend your time seducing starlets.”

“I seduce them long before then.” Bucky is still breathless, obviously from laughter and from the jostling as Steve climbs the stairs. “The bed’s the end result.”

Steve goes into the bedroom and grabs Bucky again, throwing him down onto the bed. Bucky bounces and huffs out another breath then hooks one of his legs around Steve’s and pulls him forward. Steve laughs and falls over him, catching himself at the last second and bracing himself over Bucky.

Looking down at him for a moment, one that feels longer than it is, Steve moves forward and presses their mouths together. Bucky’s lips part immediately, and the heat of his breath breaks whatever thread of restraint has been holding Steve in check throughout the past four months. 

He deepens the kiss, hard and hot, tongues sliding slick against one another. He shifts so he's between Bucky's legs, and it feels like he's meant to be there. Digging his heels into the back of Steve's thighs, Bucky rolls his hips upward. His cock slides against Steve's, both of them half-hard. 

Bucky grabs the hem of Steve's shirt and pulls it toward him, tugging it over Steve's head. He breaks the kiss just long enough to get Steve stripped from it, then drops the shirt behind him, surging upward to kiss Steve again. 

Bucky smells like sweat from moving, and Steve wants to inhale him, bury his face against Bucky's skin. Instead he rucks up Bucky's shirt as best he can so he can feel Bucky, skin on skin. Bucky breaks the kiss with a sound somewhere between a growl and a gasp, shoving Steve back again, enough that he can get his own shirt off. 

Steve takes advantage of the distance between them and undoes Bucky's jeans. Bucky lifts his hips and Steve pulls the pants down as far as he can, fabric snug against Steve's thighs. Bucky's underwear is tented obscenely, a wet spot staining the fabric already where the head of his cock is pressed against it. 

Moving back a bit, Steve leans down and licks the length of Bucky's cock through the material. Bucky groans and shoves his underwear down. His cock slaps Steve on the face, and Steve's still chuckling as he takes Bucky into his mouth. He sucks the head, lips wrapped around the crown as he grips the shaft, tugging the foreskin down.

Bucky's whole body shudders and Steve has to grab his hips, holding Bucky in place as he opens his lips and takes Bucky's full length in his mouth, pulling the foreskin up as he goes down. Bucky makes a noise in the back of his throat as Steve pulls back, his tongue slipping under the foreskin as he lets it slide up until it just covers the head.

"Jesus Christ." Bucky lifts his head and then drops it back on the mattress. 

Steve pulls back and Bucky protests until Steve catches the edge of the skin between his teeth, holding it as he flicks his tongue against it. He has to grip Bucky's hips tighter so that he doesn't get hurt and, when he releases him, sliding Bucky back into his mouth, Bucky fights against his hold so he can fuck up into Steve's mouth.

Steve takes him deep, sucking hard when Bucky tries to go deeper, keeping him tight against his tongue and upper palate, the taste of pre-come in every swallow. "Steve. Oh. Oh god. Please. Oh." 

Steve pulls back, licking his lips as Bucky whines. Steve swipes the heel of his hand across his lips, feels them wet and swollen. He licks them then wipes his palm over. He's breathing hard, chest heaving. "You have something?"

Bucky rolls over the best he can with his pants still mid-thigh, digging in his bedside drawer. Steve undoes his jeans as quickly as he can, sighing in relief as he frees his cock. He's just managed to get Buck's pants pulled off when Bucky practically throws the jar of Vaseline at him. Steve doesn't waste any time opening it and scooping out some with his fingers. 

Bucky spreads his legs wide, digging his heels into the mattress so he can lift his ass off the bed. Steve licks his lips again then bites the lower one. Bucky's hole is tight and puckered, pink darkening to brown. The skin glistens as Steve rubs the Vaseline over it. 

Whimpering, Bucky reaches out and fists his hand in Steve's hair. "Steve."

"I've got you," Steve assures him quietly, slowly pressing against the tight muscle and pushing inside him. Bucky hisses, clenching around Steve for a moment, breathing roughly as he relaxes slowly. Steve works his finger in with shallow strokes, pushing past the second ring of muscle. He eases in until the entirety of his finger is sheathed inside Bucky, then he starts teasing the sensitive walls.

He thrusts his finger in and out steadily until Bucky takes him easily. He brings the vaseline up to his hand and gets some on a second finger, working it in beside the first. Bucky keeps sucking in air through his teeth, hissing it in then moaning it out. Spreading his fingers, Steve loosens Bucky up, stretching him open. 

"St-e-eve. Please." 

Steve nods and eases his fingers free, sitting back on his knees. He hisses as he wraps his slick coated hand around his shaft, stroking himself. He's aroused and sensitive enough that it almost hurts. Once his cock is lubed up, he puts his arms under Bucky's legs, lifting his thighs. He works one of Bucky's legs over his shoulder so he can reach between them and guide his cock to Bucky's opening, hold himself steady as he presses inside.

It's still tight, and both of them hiss as Steve slides in with a series of steady, slow strokes. Bucky releases his grip on Steve's hair, running shaking fingers through it instead. He brings his other hand up as well as Steve moves up so he's braced over Bucky. Bucky's blue eyes are practically black, all pupil as he stares up at Steve, and his knees are practically to his shoulders. 

"Move," Bucky groans. " _Please_."

Taking a deep breath, Steve rocks his hips back and then pushes in again. Bucky makes a high pitched sound in his throat, a keen that hangs in the air for an endless moment, and then Steve gives up all pretense of restraint. 

He fucks into Bucky, steady and hard, and Bucky rocks down onto him with every thrust. Neither of them can manage words, just breathless pants as they move together. Steve manages to kiss him for a second before Bucky's mouth opens wide. He digs his nails into Steve's scalp as Steve's cock finds his prostate. 

After that it feels like a frenzy. Steve speeds up, leaving Bucky gasping desperately with every driving thrust. His nails scrape over Steve's scalp and down his back, and then his hands are between them, knuckles of one hand hard against Steve's stomach where Bucky's gripped the base of his own cock, knuckles of the other slicked by the sweat on Steve's stomach as Bucky strokes himself.

Steve's mouth falls open and his eyes close as his whole body tightens, muscles contracting as he comes. He tries to get deeper as he spills inside Bucky's heat, coating his cock in his own orgasm. Bucky cries out a moment later, squeezing around Steve's softening cock as he comes as well.

Steve works his arms out from under Bucky's legs. Bucky lets them drop and the angle where they're joined changes. Steve can feel his come washing back over him and the sensation leaves him drunk-feeling. He sinks down, elbows on either side of Bucky's head. Sweat and come are already cooling between them, but he doesn't move other than to let his forehead settle against Bucky's. 

"Hi, honey. I'm home."

Bucky snorts a laugh and shoves at Steve's shoulder. "Okay, that's it. I've changed my mind. I want a new roommate."

"Too late. Name's on the lease." He lifts his head and kisses the tip of Bucky's nose. "You're legally stuck with me."

"Well, fuck."

"Mm." Steve closes his eyes and rests his forehead back against Bucky. "Maybe later. After a nap."

**

“Rogers!”

Steve looks toward the front door where Howard is walking in, Hedda Hopper clinging to his arm. It’s essentially a nightmare given form. He alters his path slightly so he goes up to them, holding out his hand for Howard to shake. He does and then Steve takes Hedda’s hand and kisses the back of her glove. “So good to see you both. Found the place okay, hm?”

“Steve, darling!” Peggy calls out from over by the bar. “Your guests are _parched_.”

“Yes, dear.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Meet. Greet. Mingle. I’m a man on a mission.” He moves away, heading for the kitchen and more ice. He fills the two buckets in his hand and takes a deep breath before he heads back out into the fray. There’s a who’s who of Hollywood running around the house, everyone laughing and dancing and drinking. Bucky’s out on the back lawn, lording over the badminton court they’d set up and, no doubt, flirting with the female up-and-comers that are taking advantage of the pool.

Sam is manning the grill and, the last Steve saw, arguing with Jimmy Cagney over the proper amount of time to cook a burger. Peggy is still by the bar, and Steve slides behind it, setting the ice buckets down before smiling at Myrna Loy. “Martini?”

“And they say men don’t know what women really want.” Steve laughs, but before he can grab the gin, another hand wraps around the bottle.

“Now, now.” William Powell reaches in front of Steve for the shaker. “I’m sure you’re doing your best, Rogers, but let a professional handle this.” He grins, and Steve steps aside. “All right. One for my leading lady.” He shifts his smile from Myrna to Jean Harlow, who’s moved up next to her. “And one for my leading lady.”

“Probably the only man that can handle both of them at once,” Steve laughs and squeezes Powell’s shoulder and vacates the bar, leaving it to him and the bartender they’d hired to work the party. He goes into the crowd and starts making his way around, being sure to make contact with all the people he knows will leave the party long before the actual party starts.

By eleven a large swathe of the group has left, piling into cars and taxis, but there are still plenty of people, plenty of booze, and fewer clothes as more people have made their way to the pool, or simply started to relax. Steve sits on one of the lounge chairs near Sam so Peggy has an excuse to squeeze between them without raising any suspicion.

Bucky looks up at Steve from the edge of the pool. His legs are in the water, and there are women in the pool on either side of them, obviously flirting. He lifts his head in acknowledgement and Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t help that the ladies love me, Rogers.”

“They’d love Steve if I let them, James.” Peggy pats Steve on the thigh then leans across his legs to be closer to Bucky. “I just don’t like to share.”

Steve takes Peggy by the shoulders and straightens her up, settling her back between him and Sam. “Just don’t let your ego drown you.”

“He doesn’t have to worry about that.” Natasha walks up, dropping her robe on the chair next to Steve. She’s wearing a black two-piece swimsuit, but the waistband of the bottoms is much lower than usual, so the flat expanse of her stomach is visible. “His ego’s all hot air. Keeps him afloat.” She walks over to the pool, obviously aware of every eye on her. She mounts the diving board and walks out to the end, bounces lightly, and executes a perfect dive into the water.

“Show-off!” Bucky calls out as she resurfaces.

“I would hate her if I didn’t like her so much,” Peggy mutters.

“Can you do better, James?” Natasha asks as she pulls herself up out of the pool and turns to sit on the edge.

“Be prepared to be dazzled, Miss Rushman.” Bucky gets to his feet and heads toward the diving board, mimicking Natasha’s walk down, the small bounce. Instead of any kind of dive, he bounces a second time, much harder, and cannonballs into the pool.

After that, it becomes less of a party and more of a free-for-all. More people dive into the pool and someone turns the music up louder. The remaining couples start to slip away, and pretty soon it’s just the unattached people – or those pretending to be – left. Steve closes the door behind Sam and Peggy then heads to the kitchen to get himself a beer. He’s about to head back outside when he sees Hedda and Howard coming down the stairs.

“Oh, please tell me that’s not going to be in the paper tomorrow.” He’s not sure who’s more offended by the implication, but Hedda’s the first to speak.

“The party lifestyle’s never really been your modus operandi, Steve. What’s changed? Are we to assume this means there aren’t wedding bells in the future anymore?” 

“I’ve always enjoyed a good party.”

“You and Peggy Carter seem more of a private party sort of couple.”

“The sort of party Peggy and I enjoy doesn’t concern you or your readers, Hedda.”

She raises a sharply curved eyebrow. “Actually, I’m afraid it does. Spotlight doesn’t stop shining, Rogers.”

“How’d you choose who got the bigger bedroom?” Howard hooks his thumbs under his suspenders and rocks up on his heels, looking like some kid hoping for trouble. “Box office numbers? Salary?”

“Careful, Howard. You pay my salary.” Steve smiles thinly. “We flipped a coin.”

Howard smirks. “Yeah? Who won? Heads or tails? And which were you?”

Hedda’s eyebrow curves upward even higher and Steve manages a laugh despite the thick knot of rage in his throat at Howard’s snide and suggestive comment. “James got the bedroom.” 

“Come on, Howard. You promised me a ride home in that ridiculous vehicle of yours. Maybe it will get me to say nice things about you.” Hedda puts her arm through his. “Thank you for the invite, Steve, dear.”

“Mm. Did we invite you?”

“If you didn’t, I’m sure it was an oversight.” Despite being shorter than Howard, she tugs him along to the door. “Lovely place.”

Steve shuts the door behind them, leaving his hand against the wood as he takes several deep breaths. Any interest he had in returning to the party is gone. Instead he drains his beer and makes his way through the downstairs rooms, gathering glasses and ashtrays and plates and hauling them into the kitchen. A few people pop in to say goodbye to him as they leave, but he doesn’t head back out to the back yard until the last dish is dried and put away.

The pool’s still lit up, but it and the backyard are empty of everyone but Bucky and Natasha. Bucky’s still in the water, arms resting on the side of the pool, but Natasha’s perched on the diving board, cigarette in hand and ashtray to her side. Without a word, Steve strips off his shirt and dives into the pool, swimming underwater until he reaches Bucky. He surfaces and immediately presses his face against the warm curve of Bucky’s neck.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Bucky laughs and turns his head so he can see Steve. “You know, most people got in the pool before the party was over.”

“I got to chat with Howard and Hedda before they left.”

“Ah.” Bucky nudges Steve back, ignoring Steve’s whine, and turns so they’re facing each other. “I take it Howard was his usual endearing self?”

“Mm.” Steve rests his head on Bucky’s shoulder again. “You spending the night, Nat?”

“Why, Mr. Rogers.” She gasps dramatically and Steve lifts his head to see her press her hand to her chest. “I am _not_ that type of girl.”

“Wouldn’t matter if you were. You’re not my type.” He laughs and reaches out, grabbing her toes. “Guest room’s all made up.”

“I’m afraid I have a private after-party.”

Bucky sighs, “You need to dump him, Nat.”

She uses her free foot to flick water at Bucky. “He’s entertaining. And he has stamina.”

Steve his head from Bucky's chest to look at Nat. “Don't care. He’s not good enough for you.”

“No one will ever be good enough for me, Steve.” She stubs out her cigarette and pulls her feet up onto the diving board, standing and walking back from the water. “At least as long as you’re unavailable.”

“Hey!” Bucky shoves Steve away when he starts to laugh then grabs his shoulders and pushes him under the water. Bucky’s out of the pool by the time Steve comes up spluttering. “Hands off my man.” Steve climbs out and grabs a towel off one of the lounge chairs and wraps it around his waist, though it doesn’t do much to combat the early morning chill. Goosebumps rise on his skin as he follows them, listening to Bucky’s whining. “I thought we were friends, Nat!”

“Oh, no. I’m just using you to get to him.” She comes over to Steve and goes up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Now, I’ve got to run off and be scandalous.”

“Wouldn’t have you any other way.” Steve puts his hand in the small of her back and walks her into the house. Bucky shuts off the lights behind them, locking the sliding glass door as he follows them inside. She goes into one of the bedrooms on the main floor and grabs a small bag, taking it with her into the bathroom, no doubt to change out of her swimsuit.

Bucky bumps Steve with his elbow. “You okay?”

“Yeah. So what do you think? Did we do alright in our debut as a bachelor’s paradise? The place where the parties are? The place to be?”

“I think so.” He yawns and rests his head against Steve’s shoulder. “As soon as the car comes for her, let’s go to bed, hm?”

“Sounds good.” Steve wraps his arm around Bucky’s waist, closing his eyes and resting his head against Bucky’s. “Speaking of beds, if Howard ever asks you if you were heads or tails, don’t answer him.”

**

_Rumors are flying fast and furious even though Douglas Fairbanks Junior and Joan Crawford have been divorced for over a year. Word around town is that he replaced Ms. Crawford long before it was legal to with someone younger and whose star is still on the rise. Could there be wedding bells in the near future or is he still sowing his wild oats?_

**

The only time Steve’s lived with someone was when he, Sam, and Peggy first moved to Hollywood. Living with a roommate was decidedly different than living with a… boyfriend. Lover. Partner. Steve’s not sure what to call Bucky, though it doesn’t matter much since it’s not something they talk about with anyone.

It’s strange to sleep with someone every night, to wake up to a warm body. Anyone he’s actually had in his bed rarely spent the night. It’s easier than he thought it would be though. He and Bucky seem to fit together, Steve curling around Bucky and holding him close as they fall asleep.

They make it six months before their first real argument when there are suddenly subtle digs in the papers about them on the heels of Cary Grant getting married and moving out from the house he shared with Randolph Scott. Bucky’s leaving for a movie shoot, so Steve knows it’s the worst time to bring up the topic of conversation, but he also knows it needs to be done.

“You need to start dating.”

“You’re dating and they’re still talking about us.” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t see what difference it’s going to make if I’m doing it too. Besides, you and Peggy have an understanding. What am I going to tell this hypothetical girlfriend of mine, hm? I can’t get it up? I don’t believe in sex before marriage?”

“Sure, why not?” Steve kicks at Bucky’s foot. “You could probably convince someone you’re a gentleman.”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure if my dick starts perking up when we’re putting on a show for the press, she might not believe that.”

Steve frowns. “What?”

Bucky scrubs his hands over his face, his skin red when he pulls them away. “I like women too, Steve.”

“Oh.” Steve’s not sure what to say to that. “Sure. Sexually.” It’s not a question, but it is all the same.

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Okay.” He walks over to the couch and sits down, brain spinning, heart pounding.

“Shit. Hey.” Bucky follows him, sitting on the coffee table in front of him. “Doesn’t change how I feel about you. Doesn’t change the fact that I want you.”

“No. Right. You like both.” He rubs the furrow between his eyebrows. “So you don’t want to date a woman because you might be attracted to her. And want to have sex with her.”

“No.” Steve doesn’t realize he’s crossed his arms over his chest until Bucky reaches for his hands, easing them open and holding them, resting on Steve’s thighs. “I don’t want to have sex with anyone but you. But there’s a good chance she’s going to want a little more than the public affection you and Peggy show. You two can get away with it because you’re an established couple.”

“But you’re worried about it. Because you don’t want to do it. _Because_ ; you’re worried about it. Because you think you’d have to do something.”

“I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“So what do we do?” Steve’s got pictures in his head now that he doesn’t want, pictures that make his stomach churn. “Be like Grant and Scott? Confirm to everyone that we’ve been doing exactly what they think we’ve been doing? Become an open secret and hope nothing happens to us?”

“It’s an option.”

“For you.”

“Pardon?” Bucky sits up straight from where he’d been leaning forward toward Steve, but he doesn’t let go of his hands.

“They’re stars. Money-makers. You’re in their league. I’m a B-movie western actor, and I wouldn’t even be that if this came out.”

“You’re not a – “ Bucky takes a deep breath. “You do that, and I hate it. Your last movie made just as much as mine did. If I’m a star then so are you.” He releases one of Steve’s hands, keeping hold of the other as he moves to sit on the couch next to Steve. “Hey.”

“I know it’s a thing. Garbo and Dietrich and Crawford and Power. They all… I just didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t change anything. I’m exactly the same person I was when we started, the same person I was this morning.” He bumps his shoulder against Steve’s. “I could suck your cock to prove it.”

Steve snorts a laugh. “Very sexy.”

“I’m all romance.” Bucky turns his head and kisses Steve’s shoulder. “I could talk to the studio. Let the machine take over. They’d keep it quiet.”

“Maybe. I mean, if you want. Let’s just table it, hm? Until you get back?”

“I don’t really want to leave us like this.”

Steve shakes his head and squeezes Bucky’s hand. “We’re fine.” He’s not completely sure he’s telling the truth, at least not yet, but he knows they will be once he has a chance to process it all and wrap his mind around it. “Promise. Just surprised me, that’s all.”

Bucky catches Steve’s chin with his free hand and turns his head so they’re facing each other. He kisses Steve softly, and it’s so easy to fall into the kiss. Bucky’s mouth is warm, tongue sliding against Steve’s, catching it and sucking on it, before he breaks the kiss and tilts his head, kissing Steve’s jaw, the hollow behind his ear, down his throat.

“Don’t want anyone else but you.” He assures Steve as he starts unbuttoning his shirt, nibbling Steve’s collar bone. “’Cept maybe Harlow.”

“H-ha.” Steve’s back arches, neck thrown back as Bucky keeps undoing his shirt, kissing moving lower. “Powell’d murd-murder you.”

“Might be worth it.” He finishes with Steve’s shirt and starts to undo his pants. “Bet there’s a miracle under that dress.”

“I’m going to ki-kick you in the – oh god.” Bucky’s hand snakes inside Steve’s pants and underwear, wrapping around his cock. “B-Buck.”

“Mm. Don’t make threats that are going to hurt you as much as they do me.” He slides off the couch, moving between Steve’s legs as he spreads them. “Now, stop thinking and let me say goodbye properly.”

**

Bucky goes to Germany and Austria to film a spy movie set during the Great War. Sam manages, somehow, to get Howard to agree to loan Steve out, so he ends up in Arizona working with John Ford.

With the time difference and their schedules, they don’t talk much, but when they do, Steve complains about the heat, and Bucky complains about his director and co-star. His voice sounds hollow and echoes over the phone, but it’s still Bucky’s voice and, even though it hasn’t been all that long, Steve misses him.

Bucky snorts a laugh, betting Steve out of his reverie. “You’ve got that look on your face again, don’t you?”

“What look?”

“The one where you look like I’ve betrayed you by leaving, even though _you’re not at home either._ ”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a look.”

“You do too. Your eyes get all big and sad, like you think I’m never coming home. Like I’m leaving you, never to return from the wilds of the jungle.”

“You’re in Austria. That’s not the jungle.”

“The wilds of Austria doesn’t have the same gravitas.” He sighs softly. “I’ll be home in a few weeks. And I miss you too.”

“I didn’t say I missed you.”

“Didn’t have to. I told you. You’re making that face.”

“You know nothing about my face.”

“I know what it looks like when I – “

“Oh, god. Shut up.” It’s easy to forget there’s probably an operator listening, which means they’re both being incredibly stupid. But Bucky’s laughing, and Steve’s worried that hearing the sound might mean more to him than his career, because he keeps failing to be careful whenever they talk. “I have to go to bed. I’ve got an early call in the morning and you probably have to go to work.”

“I do. The wives of German diplomats aren’t going to seduce themselves.”

“Rough work.”

“You’ve got no idea. Beautiful women everywhere, swooning all over me.” There’s a hesitant edge to his voice when he finishes the sentence, no doubt from their last conversation. Argument. Whatever it actually was.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure they’re all falling at the feet of the famous Bucky Barnes.” Steve tries to keep his own voice light, ignore the little flame of jealousy he hasn’t quite figured out how to extinguish. “Must be difficult being so sexy.”

“You’d know.”

“Nah. Only Peggy thinks I’m sexy.”

Bucky blows a raspberry through the phone. “You are so full of shit.”

“I tell you, I’m a taken man. Nobody wants that.”

“Full. Of. Shit.”

Steve laughs. “Night, Buck.”

“Night.” There’s a pause before he hangs up, heavy like there are words neither of them are saying. Bucky hangs up first and it’s another moment before Steve does the same. He moves over to the bed, picking up his script and leafing through it. He has his lines memorized, but it’s something to get him out of his head.

It doesn’t actually help, since all he can really think about is Bucky, and those thoughts definitely aren’t going to put him to sleep. It’s too early in their relationship for Steve to be remembering and missing the feel of him, his touch, he knows. But he can’t help it. Can’t help but think about what it would be like to talk freely.

Of course, that makes him think about what he would say. What he says in the privacy of their bedroom or, more dangerous, the sneaking suspicion that he’s lost control of his feelings and he’s fallen in love. He would feel better if he knew how Bucky felt, but he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like Steve does, and he doesn’t talk about their relationship at all.

Still they’re together and happy, and that’s enough. Steve doesn’t need more. More wouldn’t do them any good. It would just make things more difficult as the Hollywood machine rolls on.

**

Howard seems more than willing to keep loaning Steve out after the first movie. He’s not too thrilled when, after the lead in the last role, he gets pegged for co-star in _The Road to Glory_. He’s playing a soldier again, but being typecast is worth it to work with Ford and Hawks behind the cameras, to share billing with Fredric March, Boris Karloff, and Lionel Barrymore.

He starts filming as soon as _The Last Patrol_ wraps, and Bucky’s still in Europe, so a good three months pass before they actually get to see each other. Bucky has another movie starting soon, but they still manage three weeks together. They throw a party the night he comes back because it’s expected, but people start to leave once Bucky stops being able to hide his yawns. Edith Head and her entourage finally leave, and it’s down to Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Sam, and Peggy.

When Steve comes back to the living room after shutting the door behind Edith, he sits next to Bucky, sliding his arm over Bucky’s shoulders and using his hand to bring Bucky’s head down against his chest. Bucky immediately closes his eyes.

“All right, all right.” Sam stands up and offers his hand to Peggy. “We should leave the two lovebirds alone.”

“Barnes looks too tired to be a lovebird,” Natasha says with a grin. “Pretty sure he’d fall asleep before they got started.”

“Steve’s the only one who’s fallen asleep in the middle of things.”

“Wow. Thanks, Buck.”

“Guess I should have warned you.” Natasha’s still grinning as she shakes her head. “Barnes can’t keep a secret.”

Bucky opens one eye and raises the corresponding eyebrow. “What exactly do you think we are?” He gestures between himself and Steve. “Pretty sure that’s one big secret right there.”

"Okay, it's late and Bucky's tired." Steve states before anyone can say anything else. "I'll talk to you Monday, Sam."

"Don't forget," Peggy moves over and kisses Bucky on the cheek then goes to Steve to do the same. "We have dinner with the Warners on Wednesday. I'm afraid we can't get out of that."

Sighing, Steve nods. "Right. The charity thing."

"Just be glad we're together. I heard Ann is planning to get the single men into some sort of auction."

"What's wrong with that?" Bucky asks.

"Ah, well, they're what's being auctioned off."

"What?" Steve's not sure if he's the one who says it or someone else. 

"She's quite excited by the idea. Be glad you were able to RSVP with a no, James. Though it is for charity, and I imagine you'd fetch a hefty price."

"Oh, no." Bucky assures her. "I'm priceless."

"You're overtired is what you are," Natasha argues. "And it's affecting your modesty."

Bucky turns his nose up. "I have absolutely no idea what you mean." He starts laughing even before he's through with the statement, snickering giggles that make Steve shake his head.

"All right, bedtime for little movie stars." He reaches his hand out to Bucky so he can help him up. "Could you lock up on your way out?"

They all say goodnight as Steve steers Bucky up the stairs. Bucky keeps trying to turn around, but Steve's hands stay firm on his shoulders. 

"Come on. Bed's just at the end of the hallway."

"Coming with me?" Bucky ducks out of Steve's grip and turns, forearms going to Steve's shoulders, fingers to the short hair on the nape of Steve's neck.

"Where else would I go?"

"Mm. Maybe you got used to sleeping alone and plan to go to your room."

"And maybe you're being ridiculous." Steve stops in the bedroom door and moves his hands around Bucky's hips to his ass. "Did you like sleeping without me?"

"Well, you do hog the covers. And steal my pillow. But other than that…"

"Wow, you're really making me want to come with you." Bucky looks confused for a moment then slides his lower lip into a pout. Steve can't help but smile. "Bed."

Stepping back, Bucky lets one hand slide down Steve's arms so he can grasp his hand. "Come with me."

**

They don't get out of bed except for the bathroom and for food the next five days. Some of it they spend having sex, but a large part of it is spent talking about their time apart. Bucky has more to tell, having been out of the country, and he talks about the tension in the air in Vienna and Berlin. They've only started hearing about Hitler and his rise to power in Los Angeles, but Bucky says he saw a speech while they were there and Hitler had been scary as hell, but not as scary as the crowd.

They eventually have to go back out into the real world. Steve's got another movie lined up, since Sam has been taking full advantage of Howard's continued willingness to give Steve the freedom to work with other studios. RKO keeps Bucky busy, both of them suddenly on everyone's list. Living together feels more like roommates with their schedules, but occasionally everything aligns and they have time together, just the two of them. 

Steve's just finished another war movie and then a western where Steve's riding skills are actually a major plot point and has a decent amount of low-key comedy, so it's a nice change. He's exhausted and sleeps most of his first day off, barely waking up when Bucky says goodbye and kisses the back curve of Steve's shoulder.

When he does finally drag himself out of bed, he walks around the neighborhood before the atypical humid weather sends him back home. He stops at the bar and pours himself a drink before wandering out to the pool. 

He swims lazily, enjoying the sun and heat, alternating between the water and one of the dark blue lounge chairs Bucky had insisted they had to have.

He has a break now for a few months unless something new comes up, and he knows Bucky has a lull in his schedule too, so he's looking forward to them actually getting to spend time together so they can feel like a couple in a relationship instead of friends. Sam tells him that's what a relationship actually is. He also adds that he may not be the best person to discuss relationships given his current situation. However, he'd know better than Steve because he grew up with both of his parents rather than being the son of a single mother before he was sent off to an orphanage for four years.

Steve's eyes are closed against the sun, but he opens them when a shadow blocks the light. Bucky has his sunglasses are on the top of his head, so Steve can see the blue of his eyes when he looks up. 

"I slave away all day and you're lazing around like you're watching the pool boy."

"I didn't know we had a pool boy. You never tell me the important stuff. Is he gorgeous?"

"Did I forget to mention? Well, he only works when I'm here alone."

"Keeping him for yourself. I see." He grins, matching the smile Bucky's giving him. 

Bucky goes down on his knees next to Steve's chair so they're at an even height. "Hell no. Not giving him a chance to try to steal you away."

"He must be something if he thinks he can steal me away from you." Steve slides his hand around the back of Bucky's neck, pulling him forward into a slow, lazy kiss. Bucky runs his fingertips along Steve's bare stomach, smiling into the kiss as goosebumps rise on Steve's skin.

"You smell like chlorine and coconut oil."

"Aww, Buck. You say the nicest things." Steve nods toward the pool. "You want to go for a dip? Don't even have to wear a suit."

"How about we go find some different water to play around in."

"This better not be another ploy to get me to do the dishes with you. It's your turn, plain and simple."

Bucky rolls his eyes as he pulls away. "I'm going to shower before I have to go to dinner at Odlum’s house and play nice. I was thinking you might want to join me, but, hey. If you want to do the dishes…" He trails his finger over Steve's skin again, smiling when Steve shivers.

"I guess I've had enough sun for now."

"Exactly. Don't want to burn your delicate skin." He stands and offers a hand to Steve to help him up, keeping hold of it once Steve is on his feet. They head into the house, and Bucky leads them to the en suite bathroom. He reaches in and turns on the water before starting to unbutton his short-sleeved shirt. Steve catches his hands and stops him, pushing them to Bucky's sides before taking over the task.

Steve unbuttons it slowly, fingers skimming over the ribbed tank top beneath it. Bucky shrugs the shirt off when Steve's finished, barely getting it off before Steve's guiding the tank over his head. 

Steve's fingers slide down the inside of Bucky's arms to his chest. Bucky flinches slightly, ticklish, but it's replaced by a shiver as Steve scrapes his nails over Bucky's nipples. His breath catches and he arches his back, so Steve takes advantage of the movement and lets his hands drop to Bucky's stomach, the waistband of his pants.

"God, you're gorgeous," Steve murmurs, holding Bucky's gaze as he undoes his belt, the button, the zipper.

"Steve, please."

Pushing Bucky's slacks and underwear over his hips so they fall to the floor, Steve steps closer, nuzzling Bucky's mouth. Bucky parts his lips, searching out Steve's and pulling him into a kiss. He grabs Steve's hips and shoves at his swim trunks. Steve laughs softly and reaches down, guiding the elastic waistband over his erection so Bucky can strip him. 

As soon as the shorts are at Steve's feet, Bucky presses against him, chest to chest. They're slippery from the oil on Steve's skin, warm from the heat of the sun. Steve moans softly as they kiss and Bucky puts his hands on Steve’s hips to guide him backwards into the shower stall. Steve stumbles over the lip of the shower, but Bucky tightens his grip to keep him from falling. Bucky breaks the kiss to laugh and Steve jabs him in the side as soon as he’s got his feet back under him.

“Sorry, sorry.” Bucky’s obviously trying to keep a straight face, but his smile keeps breaking through. “Sorry.” He kisses Steve again, light and quick. “Could have been worse, right?”

“Yeah, you could have had to explain it to the medics in the ambulance while I was knocked unconscious.”

“I’d have gotten dressed though, so only one of us would be naked. And I’d have covered you with a towel!”

“You are such an asshole.” Steve tugs Bucky close again, biting his lower lip sharply. Bucky doesn’t have a chance to protest before Steve kisses him, pulling him into the shower as well so he can do his best to make Bucky late for dinner.

**

He’s been living on his own for so long, Steve expects living with Bucky to be a struggle. Instead they seem to fall into a routine easily. Steve ends up doing the laundry, and Bucky does most of the cooking. They agree to clean up their own messes, but occasionally they each end up with a pile of stuff to put away when one or the other of them gets tired of moving things around. Bucky vacuums and dusts, Steve keeps the kitchen and bathrooms clean.

It’s disgustingly domestic.

Steve loves it.

“I hate vacuuming,” Bucky calls out just after the vacuum shuts off. “I want to switch.”

“Aggravates my asthma,” Steve responds from the kitchen where he’s halfway in the oven to scrub out the remnants of the casserole Bucky made that overflowed the dish.

“I think you made that up.”

“Asthma?” Steve asks, pulling his head out of the oven and sitting back on his heels. “No, that’s been around for a while.”

“I’m going to attack you with this vacuum hose.”

Steve snorts. “Not your usual method of sucking me.”

“I was thinking more about hitting you with it.” Bucky comes in and stands in the kitchen doorway. He’s pulled the vacuum along behind him like a dog on a leash, and has the nozzle draped over his shoulder. “Your suggestion might be more painful.”

“Well, if you really want to switch – “ Steve gestures to the oven, and the remaining burnt on cheese. “You scrub and I’ll sneeze, cough, and gasp for breath.”

“You know the only way I can actually find out if you have asthma is to induce an attack, and you’re holding that against me.” Bucky sets the vacuum hose down and walks over to Steve. He nudges Steve’s thigh with his toe. “You know, since you’re down there…”

Steve holds up his hand, encased in yellow latex gloves that are coated in grime. He wiggles his fingers and Bucky makes a face. “You want me to undress you?”

“On second thought…” He steps back and Steve follows him, moving his fingers in a grabbing motion. Bucky hurries over to the vacuum and holds the hose out threateningly. “I’ll turn this thing on, Rogers. Don’t think I won’t.” Steve lunges forward, dodging under the brandished hose, and grabs Bucky by the waist. They go down in a heap on the floor, Bucky making a noise somewhere between a grunt and a shriek as he tries to get away. “Steve! You asshole! Ah!”

Bucky gets a foot on Steve’s shoulder and tries to push away, but Steve’s got a grip on Bucky’s pajama pants and pulls at the same time. He tugs them halfway down Bucky’s thighs, and Bucky starts squirming, trying to work his way out of them so he can get away. Steve holds him tight even through the fabric, so he doesn’t get far, and he gives up all together as Steve moves up Bucky’s legs to straddle his thighs.

Steve grins down at him, sticking his tongue out through his teeth, just the tip showing. “Gotcha.”

“Hey, you’re the one who has to do laundry.” Bucky tries to sound nonchalant, but he ends up biting his bottom lip when Steve rolls his hips slightly. “D-don’t you dare touch me with those gloves.”

“These? These gloves right here?” Steve wiggles his fingers and then drops his hands down toward Bucky’s sides to tickle him. Bucky shrieks again and tries to wiggle away, but Steve stops just before he touches him. Bucky’s breathing is slightly heavy, and he sticks his tongue out at Steve. Steve just laughs and strips the gloves off, tossing them aside. He moves his hands back to Bucky’s sides, but instead of tickling him, he runs his palms over his skin, down to his hips then up to his rib cage. “How about without them? Can I touch you without them?”

“You already are.”

“Mm. but do you like it?” He leans in and nuzzles Bucky’s nose with his. “D’you like me touching you, Buck?”

“Fucker. You know I do.” He arches his back, presenting his chest and hard nipples to Steve. “C’mon.”

Steve releases him, setting his hands on the floor instead so he can lean in and press a kiss to the bottom of Bucky’s sternum. He breathes, moving his head slightly from side to side, his hair brushing against Bucky’s nipples. Bucky gasps quietly and seems to remember he has hands, because they move up to thread into Steve’s hair. Steve kisses his sternum again, then moves down Bucky’s left side, pressing his lips softly to the tip of each rib. Bucky squirms underneath him, and their bodies rub together every time Bucky thrusts his hips upward.

Steve refuses to grind down against him, no matter how much he wants to, moving over to Bucky’s right side and kissing his way back up his rib cage.

“I hate you.” Bucky gasps again as Steve licks up his way up to Bucky’s collar bone, planting a line of kisses along the skin.

“I know,” Steve murmurs, moving up to Bucky’s throat, to one of his earlobes. He takes it between his teeth and breathes, feeling Bucky shiver beneath him. “I could stop.”

“I could murder you.”

“Mm.”

Bucky shivers again. “You’re the worst. Literal worst.”

“Mm,” Steve’s hum makes Bucky whimper this time. “You’re right. You probably want to get back to vacuuming.” He braces his hands on either side of Bucky and lifts himself off of him.

“Oh no. No way. You get your ass back here, Steve Rogers or you’re never getting laid again. Ever. I will put out an ad in every publication in this goddamned country and tell them that you’re an evil cocktease of a man.”

Steve laughs and kisses the tip of Bucky’s nose. “I have to put your pajamas in the laundry. Somehow you got them all dirty.”

Bucky grabs Steve’s ass and digs his nails in, not letting him pull away. “In that case, you’d better take my underwear off as well.”

“You’re going to vacuum in the nude?” Steve sits up and runs his fingers down Bucky’s chest to the waistband of his underwear, then drags one finger over the line of his erection, the wet spot on the cloth. “Oh, you are right. This is terrible. You’re making a mess of yourself. Definitely need these off.”

“Need to get _me_ off.”

“I don’t know. That’s really not conducive to getting our chores done.”

Bucky groans and digs his nails in deeper, undoubtedly leaving crescent indents on Steve’s ass. “Make you a deal, you blow me and I’ll clean the rest of the house all by myself.”

“Really?” Steve raises an eyebrow as he slips his fingers under Bucky’s underwear and lifts it up, guiding the waistband over his erection. “Bathroom and laundry too?”

“Yes!” Bucky groans, hips coming off the floor as he tries to push into Steve’s touch.

Steve raises his eyebrow higher. “Really?”

Bucky slips his lower lip out into a pout. “Fuck. No.” He reaches around and grabs Steve’s wrist, guiding his hand to his cock. “But I promise I’ll hire a housekeeper.”

**

“Are you going to be home tonight? You and Barnes?”

Steve frowns at the tension in Sam’s voice. “Yeah. We don’t have any plans. Everything okay?”

“We’ll talk about it tonight.” He hangs up, and Steve’s left staring at the phone. Bucky comes out of the kitchen, frowning as well as soon as he looks at Steve. 

“Who was that?”

“Sam.” Steve finally hangs up the receiver. “He wants to talk to us both tonight, but wouldn’t say why.”

“You think someone found us out?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t say what it was over the phone. If it was the studios they’ll cover it up, but if it was someone else…” Steve walks over to the couch and sinks down on it. “If it was the papers, he’d have said, I’d think. It would be out there.”

“Unless someone intends on blackmailing us or something?” Bucky sits next to him and takes Steve’s hand. Steve hadn’t even realized he’d been running both hands up and down his thighs. “If anything, it’s the studio, and it’s in their best interest to keep it quiet. Even if the papers found out, they’ll get silenced soon enough.”

“Yeah. I’m sure you’re right. I’m borrowing trouble.” Steve exhales and squeezes Bucky’s hand. “I’m just… I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve.” He bumps his shoulder into Steve’s. “Come on. I’ll get us some wine and we can sit outside for a while. Relax before we go back to the grind tomorrow. Let’s not worry about this until we find out what we’re worrying about, okay?”

“Yes. Right.”

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

“Wine. Sun. I’m listening.”

“Go change into something less…” He gestures at Steve’s slacks and shirt. “Less.”

“You just want me for my body, don’t you?”

“Well…” 

“Wow.” Steve shakes his head and tugs at their joined hands, bringing Bucky against him. “I’m feeling loved, I gotta tell you.” Bucky smiles, but it’s tentative, and Steve realizes what he said. He can feel himself flush. “Don’t worry. I imagine you’re not the first to think this is my best attribute.”

“Yeah, yeah. So go on and change so I can objectify you.”

Steve drops a kiss on Bucky’s forehead and pulls away, mentally berating himself all the way upstairs to his own bedroom where his clothes are stored for appearance sake. They haven’t talked about feelings beyond liking each other and wanting each other, and now Steve’s placed an elephant in the middle of the room. Even though he deflected, he knows he put it in Bucky’s mind and no doubt it’s going to come between them.

He strips out of his clothes and puts on a pair of swim trunks, meeting Bucky in the hallway coming from their shared room, dressed in a pair of shorts as well. Bucky leads the way downstairs, grabbing a bottle of wine as Steve grabs two glasses. It’s warm and breezy outside, though their fence blocks most of the wind. They sit on lawn chairs and drink their wine, talking about scripts and upcoming roles. Very deliberately not talking about feelings or the future. There’s no humidity, but the air still feels oppressive, and eventually Bucky goes for a swim, diving into the water and disappearing underneath it for a while until he kicks up to the surface and starts swimming laps.

Steve drains his wine and gets up, going back into the house to change. He’s not sure what time Sam might come by, but he is sure he doesn’t want to have whatever conversation they’re going to have while he’s in just a pair of swim trunks. As soon as he’s dressed again he heads to the kitchen, pulling out the steaks they’ve had marinating and getting them ready to cook.

Bucky comes in later just as everything is almost done. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and he’s rubbing another one against his hair. He gives Steve a smile then comes up and kisses the back of his neck. “Smells good.”

“Me or dinner?”

“Does it have to be one or the other?” His hand strokes along Steve’s side. “We okay?”

“Yeah. Absolutely. Sorry I made it weird.”

“You didn’t, I – “

“I did, Buck. It’s okay. I wasn’t trying to start anything. I just meant it as an expression.” He eases away from Bucky and the stove. “I’m going to make a salad. Why don’t you go up and shower and change. You’ve got a little bit longer for your medium-well.”

Bucky doesn’t leave right away, but eventually he walks out of the room. Steve lets out a slow breath once he’s gone and tries to focus on putting the salad together. He’s got everything on the table when Bucky comes back down, and they start eating, though the silence is heavy in the room. “Okay, come on. Let’s talk about this.”

“We did.”

“Steve.” Bucky sighs. “Obviously we need to do something, because right now I feel like we’re on eggshells. That’s not how I want us to be, do you?”

“No, of course not.” He stabs at his salad. “But I can’t unsay it, and you took it in a certain way, and you can’t deny that.”

“It just startled me!”

“It’s an expression.”

“Yeah, but we’re in a relationship where something like that can happen, can come up. Maybe that’s how you really feel.” The fact that that’s not what Bucky wants is obvious in everything he doesn’t say. He reaches out for Steve’s hand. “We’re doing good, right? We’re happy? You’re happy?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Steve rubs his thumb over Bucky’s pulse. “I’m happy.”

“And we’re not…”

“No. We’re not.” Steve manages a smile and the air clears some, but Steve still feels like he has a weight on his shoulders. The rest of dinner is quiet, but Bucky keeps hold of Steve’s hand, offering up small, shy smiles from time to time. Steve’s tried not to think about his feelings for Bucky too much, knowing that somewhere along the line, one or both of them is going to have to walk away from this, live the life Hollywood requires of them. Too many feelings, too much, will just hurt them both in the end. Holding their hearts close and not letting anything beyond a surface level is what’s going to let them be able to let go.

Steve’s drying the dishes as Bucky washes when the doorbell rings. Steve gets it and lets Sam and Peggy in. Both of them look drawn, unhappy. Steve ushers them into the living room and calls Bucky in from out of the kitchen, so they can all sit, Steve and Bucky next to each other, across from where Sam and Peggy sit side by side.

“Sam? Peggy? What’s wrong?”

Sam frowns at his hands then looks up at Steve. Steve’s never seen Sam look so uncertain and defeated. “There’s a problem. It’s a good problem, but it’s a big problem, and we’re not sure how to take care of it.”

“How can we help?”

Sam takes a deep breath and holds it, glancing at Peggy as he lets it out slowly. She nods and grabs Sam’s hand hard enough that it looks like it hurts. Before Sam can manage another word, Peggy starts talking.

“I’m pregnant.”

Steve grins widely. “You are? That’s great. That’s amazing. You guys must be so happy.”

“We are. We are.” Peggy gives Sam an adoring look before turning her gaze back to Steve, her eyes no longer filled with love and happiness. “But it poses some problems.”

“Like the fact that I’m black and she’s white, and any kid we have is going to be both.” Sam practically sneers the words. He’s usually good at hiding his anger over the fact that he and Peggy have to pretend to not be together, be married, but right now that’s not the case. “Howard wants her to get an abortion.”

“Which is exactly what any other studio boss would have said.”

Peggy’s level-headed response just seems to make Sam angrier. “Well, excuse me if I don’t give a fuck about what the studio system has to say about what we do with _our_ child.”

“Sam.” She takes his hand and squeezes it, pulling it into her lap. “It’s not going to happen.”

“What are you going to do then? Retire?”

“I have a contract with Stark Studios. Another two years before I can leave. And, should I take time off for pregnancy, or whatever he’s going to deem I’ve disappeared for, he’ll add that time onto the end of my contract, just like the rest of the studios would.”

Steve frowns, thinking. Before he can say anything, Bucky speaks. “What did you tell Howard?”

“Howard thinks the baby is Steve's, of course.”

“What?” Steve and Bucky both say at the same time.

“Well, darling. We’re dating. People who are dating tend to have sex. Sex often leads to babies, whether you intend for it to or not.”

“So…what? What does that mean?”

Peggy looks at Sam for a long moment then back at Steve. “Well, I was wondering how you’d feel about getting married.”

No one makes a sound for several minutes and then Steve clears his throat. “You’re already married.”

“Yes. I’m aware. It obviously wouldn’t be a real marriage. More for propriety’s sake. We’d have to have a honeymoon, of course, but after that, I have a movie to film in England before I start showing. Then I’ll contrive a reason to stay there until the baby’s born. You’ll have to come for a visit or two, but other than that…”

“But what about the baby?”

“Well, I’d come back with a lovely adopted baby, happy to be welcomed into our family. We, I suppose. It would be best if you were with me.”

Steve looks at Sam. “How can you be okay with this?”

“I don’t have a choice,” Sam snaps. 

“We could divorce soon after I came back. It wouldn’t be difficult given it won’t be a real wedding. And Sam will be in England with me for the pregnancy. He’s met with Chester Phillips and discussed him managing Sam’s clients for a percentage of Sam’s earnings. He’d handle your career until we return, unless you’d prefer to stay with him afterward.”

“People are going to expect you to live together,” Bucky says, actually speaking for the first time, other than his earlier outburst. 

“I have a house of my own, so there’s no need for us to purchase one. Steve can stay there when he’s not with me.” She sighs. “I know this is a horrible imposition. I know we’re asking so much of you. So much of you both.”

“Howard called after Peggy left.” Sam doesn’t look at either of them, focusing instead on his and Peggy’s joined hands. “He changed his mind and was thrilled about it, actually. Said you needed to stop living like a bachelor, especially now that Grant and Scott are both married. Marriage is the thing for men to do right now, especially when they’re a little too old for roommates.”

“How are you going to get divorced without it looking bad for one or both of you?” Bucky’s voice stays level, and Steve can’t read his tone. “Steve would be the bad guy for abandoning your child. They’d blame you for something.”

“People don’t view it as abandonment. Men are expected to just move on and not care about taking care of children. Perhaps… He could find someone new. Someone less of a homebody. Someone who seduces him away during a movie shoot. But once we were divorced, it would make sense for him to come back to live here.”

“What are you thinking? Two years?” Bucky‘s voice is still flat, stoic. 

“I honestly don’t know what else our options are, Bucky.” Peggy’s not pleading, but there’s a note in her voice that makes it clear she’s not far from it. “I can’t... I’ve lost one baby already. I can’t lose this one. Certainly not deliberately.”

“I’m not saying that.” He shakes his head and moves forward to the edge of the cushion. “But we need to know what we’re looking at. For our sakes. What it means for us.”

There’s a sharp twinge in Steve’s chest at Bucky’s words, but he’s careful not to react outwardly. He’s not sure how well he does, given the quick glance Peggy gives him. “Yes. A year and a half to two years.”

Steve gets up and walks over to Peggy, sitting on the side of her opposite Sam and taking her free hand. “Of course I’ll do it, Pegs. You know I’d do anything for you and Sam.”

“I know. I do know. But I don’t want you to lose your chance at happiness because you’re shoring up mine.” She turns from Steve and looks at Bucky. “Bucky?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course Steve’s going to help you. No question.” He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “We just need to talk about it, you know? Isn’t exactly what we were planning on, but we’ll figure it out. Why don’t you two come over for dinner tomorrow? We’ll talk some more then, once Steve and I hash it all out.”

“Of course.” Peggy stands, and Sam does as well, her hand still in his. “I’m so sorry to ask this of you. If I could simply get out of my contract, I would.”

“We know.” Bucky holds out his hand to Sam. “Congratulations, dad.”

“Don’t say things like that, Barnes. I’m already a nervous wreck.”

He pats Sam on the shoulder and kisses Peggy’s cheek. Steve walks them to the door, standing there as they walk out to their car. He waits until they drive off before shutting the door and heading back into the living room. Bucky’s standing at the sliding glass door and staring out at the pool, at the lights shimmering with the water’s movement. He has a drink in his hand, and Steve sees another sitting on the bar. He walks over to get it and goes to the couch, giving Bucky space.

Neither of them says anything for a long time and Steve’s drink is gone even though he’s only been sipping at it. He goes to the bar to pour himself another. Once he’s done filling his glass, he puts his hand on the counter on either side of him and looks down at his drink. “I wouldn’t expect you to wait.”

“What?” Bucky turns and looks at him.

“For me. I wouldn’t expect that. Two years is a long time. A lot can happen. You could meet someone. The right person or just someone for right now. I wouldn’t ask you not to live your life. To be happy. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Bucky huffs a breath. “Is that what you want?”

“No.” Steve says sharply. “No, it’s not. But that’s not the point.”

“What is then?” Bucky comes over to the bar and slams his glass down. “What exactly is the point, Steve? Tell me that.”

“I have to do this for Sam and Peggy. You don’t owe them anything. You don’t owe me anything.”

“So that’s it? You have to play house so we’re done? We can’t hang out. You can’t come over. Can’t spend time with me. We can’t even be friends now? So I should just fuck off and find someone new?”

“That’s not…”

“Because that’s sure what it sounds like.”

“And what about that seems like you’d be happy to wait while I’m married to someone else?” Steve raises his voice, matching Bucky’s angry glare with one of his own. “You don’t love me after two years of living together, why the hell would you love me after two years of living apart?” He stops, breathing heavily as his words hang in the air around them. “I’m your friend, Bucky. I’ll be that as long as you let me. But maybe this is all for the best. Because.” He stops and squeezes his eyes shut. “Because the truth is, I keep wanting more, and I don’t think you do.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“No?” Steve laughs and it sounds bitter to his own ears. He stalks around the bar and stands in front of Bucky, invading his space so they’re practically chest to chest. 

“No.”

“Fine.” Steve’s voice is sharp. “What do you want then? Tell me.”

“I want it to be easier.”

“Then maybe you should find a nice girl to date, because this? Us? It’s never going to be easy, whether we’re in Hollywood or not.” Steve sighs and takes a step back. Bucky makes a soft noise low in his throat, but Steve does his best to ignore it. “I love you.” He says it quietly, for himself more than for Bucky. “And I know that’s not what you want, because nothing about that is easy. And I know it’s not what you want to hear, but now it’s out there. Because it’s the truth. So maybe this is all for the best. You should find someone you can love, someone you can be with. Something easy.” 

Steve steps away from Bucky, and even though it’s just a step back, it feels like a chasm. Bucky’s eyes are dark and unreadable as he looks up at Steve. His face is set in stone. Finally Bucky swallows and backs away as well, maneuvering around Steve and grabbing his jacket and keys on his way to the door. “Don’t wait up.”

The door slams behind him and Steve goes over to the couch, sinking down heavily. He leans back and his head thunks against the wall behind the sofa. “Very impressive, Rogers. You managed to blow up your whole life in one night. Probably a new world record. Should call Guinness." He lets out a long sigh as he closes his eyes, feeling the heat prick against the inside of his eyelids. "And now you’re talking to yourself. Keeps getting better and better.”

He doesn’t know how long he sits there for, but eventually he gets up and goes to his bedroom. He pulls his suitcase out of the closet and lays it out on his bed, working his way through his bureau to pack at least a couple shirts, socks, underwear, and pairs of pants. He’s spent more than one night on Sam and Peggy’s couch, so at least he knows he has somewhere to go.

He’s already closed up the suitcase and is looking around the room for anything he’ll need immediately if he leaves in the morning. He startles at the sound of a throat clearing behind him. Turning, he looks at Bucky where he’s standing in the doorway. Bucky looks as tired as Steve feels. He walks in and sits on the edge of Steve’s bed, fingers splayed on the comforter. 

“You’re the first actual relationship I’ve had with a man. I never intended to have one. I expected to spend my life with some very nice woman and slip away a few times a year to some shady bar and, I don’t know, get it out of my system for a while. Being with another guy. Well, there was no way that was going to happen. No way it could.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just waits. Bucky frowns down at his hand as it sweeps along the bedspread. 

“Then you came along with your ridiculous smile and your stupid everything. And even when it could have just been a fuck, you managed to be my friend. And I liked you. Like you. And even though this idea sounded ludicrous at first, suddenly it all started to make sense. Being around you all the time, being with you. Living together. Friends with the side benefit of sex.”

Steve stays silent, not sure what’d he’d say even if he thought he could speak. 

“Marriage is different.” Is what Bucky finally manages to say, the words halting. “You can’t just walk away from it.”

“Yes. I can. I’ve promised a certain amount of time, and I’ll honor that, but there’s absolutely no chance of me falling in love with Peggy. No chance of a real relationship beyond friendship. And, maybe most importantly, she’s married to Sam.” Steve sighs. “I know it’s unrealistic to ask you to wait. I told you I’m not expecting that.”

“Why not?” Bucky asks sharply.

“Because you’re fighting so damn hard to make sure I know you don’t want to.” Steve shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, Bucky. I want you to find someone to love. Maybe this is just a definitive sign that it’s not going to be me. And that’s probably for the best. Because we both know that there’s no way this could last long-term.”

“So we just walk away from what we spent the last two years building?”

Steve sighs. “Isn’t that what you just did?”

“I needed time to think.”

“And what did you come up with?”

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “I’m not ready to lose this. Lose us. But you have to do this.” He inhales deeply and lets it out slowly. “The studio’s pushing me to date someone. They like the eligible bachelor, but they think I need a little romance.”

Steve nods, trying to pretend it doesn’t bother him. “They have someone in mind?”

“They think I’m only interested in women. Expect me to find someone on my own, I think.”

“Perfect timing. Maybe, whoever she is, the two of you could have dinner with me and Peggy. Or me once she’s off to England.” He swallows hard and he’s sure his smile is pathetic. No part of him feels like smiling, feels as calm as he’s forcing himself to be. Bucky isn’t even pretending to smile.

He looks Steve over then holds his eyes for a long time before letting his gaze drop to the suitcase. “Were you leaving tonight?”

“In the morning. I got the impression that you didn’t particularly want me here.”

“It’s your house too," Bucky says, voice soft, but sharp.

“I’ll keep paying my half. Unless you were going to look at renegotiating the lease and finding somewhere else.”

“Unless it’s an imposition for you, I think I’ll stay.”

“No.” He ignores the flash of a thought – of Bucky in bed with someone else. In their bed with someone else – and shakes his head. “No imposition.”

“You don’t have to leave until you’re ready.” He wipes his hands on his thighs and gets to his feet. “So, do I get to be the best man?”

“Would you want to?”

“Not particularly, no. But it would probably look strange if I wasn’t.”

“Maybe Peggy and I should elope. Depending on how far along she is. That way you wouldn’t – “

“Okay. Yeah.” Bucky laughs, no amusement in it. “Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve closes his eyes as Bucky turns and walks out of the room, unable to even say goodnight before the door shuts.

** 

“Steve, what are you doing here?” Peggy frowns but steps back to let Steve inside. “We were going to call later and come over.”

“Seemed pointless to wait.”

“Where’s Bucky?”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Oh. Oh, Steve.”

His breath hitches at the pain and sympathy in her voice, but otherwise he doesn’t react. “We talked last night. Got everything sorted between the two of us.”

“I’m so sorry, you know I – “

“I know. But no point to looking at what might have been.” He nods toward the living room. “Can we sit?”

“Of course.”

They walk into the living room just as Sam walks in with three cups of coffee. He looks at Steve and closes his eyes. “I’m so so – “

“Don’t.” Steve shakes his head. “You’re going to have a baby. There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m thrilled for you, and I’m happy to help out.”

“You know that’s not what we mean.”

“What you mean doesn’t matter. Just what is.” He clears his throat. “One of those coffees happen to be for me?” Sam hands him one of the mugs and they all three sit down. Peggy gives Sam a pained look that Steve ignores. “So. I don’t know anything about pregnancy, but you can’t tell right away, right?”

“We figure she’s about six weeks along.”

“I don’t know exactly what that means, but we probably don’t want to wait and do a big wedding. I was thinking we should elope or see a Justice of the Peace.”

“Probably,” Peggy agrees.

“Good. If it was something big, people would expect him to be involved. He said he would, but I don’t want that.”

“Of course.” Peggy’s voice is strained, and Steve knows Bucky’s present in the room just as much as if he’d come with him. “That makes sense.”

“Do you think we could do it soon so I can move into the guest room? I don’t want to prolong this, drag it out. He deserves a chance to get on with his life.”

“He’s not even going to try to wait?” Sam asks.

“The studio is pushing him to find someone. I want him to be able to do that.”

“They know? Are they giving him someone?”

“They don’t know. Bucky likes women too. I’m sure with the freedom to do so, he’ll find someone soon. He’s everything a woman could want.” His voice breaks and he takes a deep breath. “We could maybe leave for England right after the ceremony? A day or two.”

“Steve.”

“Don’t,” Steve snaps. “Don’t. It’s fine. It wasn’t serious. It couldn’t be serious. And it wasn’t going to last. So don’t.”

Sam and Peggy look at each other, but they don’t say anything. Steve sets his coffee down because his hands are shaking. Sam waits until Steve has himself under control before he says anything. “We can set something up with the Justice of the Peace. You’ll need rings.”

“Ring.” Steve manages a smile, and this one isn’t forced at all. “Peggy already has a ring to wear.”

Sam’s throat works for a moment before he manages to swallow. “I…”

“It’s past time for her to wear your ring, Sam.”

Peggy grabs Sam’s hand and squeezes it so tight her knuckles go white. “Sam.”

Sam nods weakly. He finally coughs and clears his throat. “Okay. Ring.”

“I’ve got my parents rings, actually. I think my dad’s will fit. I’ll try it and see before we go out and get something. Then we can let it slip that they’re my family rings.”

“We’ll need to somehow get the word out that it’s happening. Make sure we get you leaving the courthouse in a photo. Get you in the papers.”

“Right. When do you start filming, Peg?”

“Three weeks until I’m needed. What about you?”

“I’ve got a while before my next project. I can stay in England for a month, month and a half. Have our little honeymoon.”

“Steve.” Peggy gets off the loveseat she and Sam are sitting on and walks over to settle down next to Steve. “We can’t thank you enough.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” He leans over and kisses her cheek. “Though I fully expect the kid to be named after me.”

She laughs, even as she starts crying. Steve wraps his arm around her and holds her close, bending his head and burying his nose in her hair, resolutely not crying too.

**

He doesn’t see Bucky at all in the three days that lead up to their appointment with the Justice of the Peace, and then Steve’s married. He and Peggy walk outside the courthouse to blinding flashes and reporters asking rapid-fire questions. They put on a show of kisses and bullshit excuses about how they didn’t want the wait and stress of a big wedding, they just wanted to say their vows to each other without any hype or hullabaloo.

“Where’s James, Steve? I’d figure he’d be here by your side.” Of course it’s Hedda who asks. Even though Steve’s expecting the question, it still manages to catch him off-guard.

“Pardon?”

“James Barnes. You’ve lived together for the past two years. Why isn’t he here celebrating with you?”

“He’s in charge of the reception,” Peggy answers. “He’s the expert on celebrations, after all.”

“One would think the best friend would be the best man.”

“Like I said.” Steve smiles at Peggy, hoping nothing shows in his eyes. “We wanted simple. No Hollywood. Two witnesses who weren’t going to bring out the media circus. James going into a courthouse definitely would have made all of this even crazier.”

“He’s not angry about you moving out?”

“Why would he be? Peggy and I marrying was an inevitability. I’m sure James will actually love having the bachelor palace all to himself. Maybe he’ll find someone of his own to settle down with now that I’m not in the way, grabbing all the attention of the beautiful ladies.” He laughs, light and self-deprecating. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a party and a wedding night to get to.”

He guides Peggy to a waiting cab and lets out a shaky breath as soon as they’re inside. She holds his hand and threads their fingers together. The foreign feel of a ring on his finger startles Steve. He rubs the metal with his thumb. “What do you think he’s doing?”

“I imagine exactly what you’ll be doing once we get home.”

“Yeah?” Stave’s brow furrows. “What’s that?”

“Drinking.”

Steve concedes the point with a shrug. Peggy lifts his arm and moves under it, letting him hold her close. They stay like that the rest of the drive to Sam and Peggy’s – and Steve’s now too – house.

He pays the driver and holds the door for Peggy. Putting his arm around her shoulder again, he stoops slightly and scoops her up in a bridal carry. She shrieks quietly and slaps his shoulder, but Steve just smiles down at her as several flashes go off in the distance.

“You will put me down the _instant_ we’re out of sight of the vultures.”

“Absolutely. Sam gets to carry you to bed.”

“How do I put up with you?”

“Love is strange.”

He’s about to reach for the doorknob when the door swings open wide, a champagne cork popping and flying out over Steve’s shoulder. Natasha grins at him and takes a drink from the bottle. “Can’t have a wedding without a reception. And cake. Not a wedding without cake.”

She steps back so Steve can carry Peggy inside, setting her on her feet once the door’s shut behind them. “How many bottles of champagne have you had?”

“First one, I promise,” Natasha says. “There may have been a few other drinks though.” She takes Steve’s hand and leads them deeper into the house. The crowd in the living room shouts their congratulations. There aren’t too many people, no more than twenty. Most of them are the usual suspects that attended the parties at Steve and Bucky’s house. Howard’s there with his newest starlet on his arm, William Powell and Jean Harlow, Bette Davis, and Walt Disney.

And Bucky.

He raises a glass in Steve and Peggy’s direction when they walk in, smiling widely, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “A toast to the bride and groom. Someone get them drinks!”

He goes quiet after that, and Steve loses sight of him as he and Peggy make their way around the room. He makes sure Sam has a moment of privacy with Peggy, watching out of the corner of his eye as Sam removes her wedding ring, kisses it, and then slips it back on her finger.

She excuses herself for a moment, so Steve makes his way into the kitchen, then out into the backyard. He takes several deep breaths, clearing his lungs and his head. He’s about to turn and go back inside when a hand wraps around his wrist, grips his arm tight, then pulls him around the side of the house.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything before Bucky’s hands have Steve pinned to the wall, before his mouth is hot on Steve’s.

Steve groans softly, desperately, and gives in, surrenders without a second thought. Bucky swallows the sound, straddling one of Steve’s legs, grinding against his thigh. Steve grabs Bucky’s ass and pulls him harder against him, rolling his hips to increase the friction between them.

Bucky moans quietly and wraps a leg around one of Steve’s. Steve doesn’t think, just tightens his grip on Bucky’s ass and lifts him before turning them both and holding Bucky against the wall.

Bucky arches into him and Steve brings a hand around, working Bucky’s belt and fly undone. He snakes his hand into Bucky’s slacks and underwear, gripping him firmly before dragging his fist from base to tip. Bucky’s head falls back and he bites his lower lip, which keeps his low keening between them.

“Oh, god,” Steve breathes, burying his face against Bucky’s throat, leaving hot, damp kisses on his skin.

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” Bucky buries both hands in Steve’s hair, pulling his head up and finding his mouth. His tongue slides against Steve’s before he catches it and sucks on it. Steve tightens his grip slightly and speeds up his strokes. “Miss you. Need you.”

Steve kisses him because he needs to, but also to stop Bucky from talking. Every word is like a knife in Steve’s chest, sharp and deadly. His thumb slides across the slick head of Bucky’s cock, spreading pre-come and pressing his thumb along the slit so more leaks out, stroking it down onto Bucky’s length. Bucky breaks the kiss, panting loudly, and his head falls back. He arches, shoulders hard against the wall, and comes, coating Steve’s palm and fingers, getting on the sleeve of his jacket.

Bucky slumps back against the wall, pulling Steve forward at the same time so he can kiss him, still breathless. Steve carefully eases him back to the ground then, glancing around, wipes his hand on the grass. Bucky laughs, a little wildly, not even bothering to tuck himself in before he sinks to his knees, reaching for Steve’s fly. Steve sucks in a shaky breath as Bucky pulls his cock free of his pants, taking Steve into his mouth. Steve’s breath and his voice are caught in his throat and he falls forward, just managing to brace himself on the wall. Bucky licks and sucks, bringing Steve deep enough that the tip of his cock touches the back of Bucky’s throat. Bucky’s hands slide up the back of Steve’s thighs and he grabs Steve’s ass, urging him forward.

“Buck.” His head falls forward and he watches as he rolls his hips, fucking into Bucky’s mouth slowly before he picks up speed, watching tears as they spark Bucky’s lashes, the slick redness of his lip, the slide of spit on Steve’s skin. One hand drops and cups the back of Bucky’s head and Bucky’s moan shivers along Steve’s nerves. The swell of his arousal crests and Steve’s body tightens. “Buck. Buck.”

Bucky grabs Steve’s ass tighter, pulling him against him until all of Steve is sheathed inside him. Steve’s hips try to stutter against the grip, but he can’t move, and he comes deep in Bucky’s throat. Bucky moans as he swallows, tongue stroking Steve until he’s spent. Still bracing himself, he leans forward to rest his forehead on the side of the house. Bucky pulls away and looks up at Steve as he licks his swollen lips. Steve slides his hand around so he can push his thumb into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky sucks on it, drawing it in up to the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. When Steve pulls it free, it makes a soft pop, and the sound makes him shiver.

Bucky’s shaky as he gets to his feet, and Steve grabs his hand, helping to steady him. Bucky leans against the wall, biting his lower lip as he looks up at Steve. “You’re a married man.” His voice is raspy, thick. “I should probably apologize.”

Steve presses his forehead against Bucky’s. “I should probably get back inside.”

“This is all we get, huh? One last hurrah?” He pulls back and shakes his head. “Go back and play groom. I’ll be in in a few.” Steve reaches out to brush Bucky’s cheek, to touch him, but Bucky jerks back. “Don’t. Okay? Just don’t.”

Steve nods and moves away. He purposefully doesn’t look back, because he knows he won’t be able to leave if he does. Instead he goes inside and finds Peggy. And a drink.

And doesn’t see Bucky again.


	3. 1937

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Cocreator - odetteandodile

**Stark Contract: -4**

_In an ironic twist, Peggy (Carter) Rogers heading to England to star in **Missing, Presumed Married** , which is likely exactly how her brand new husband, Steve Rogers, is going to spend the first few months of their union_

**

Steve gets home from England a week before his next film starts shooting, giving himself time to recover from the time difference. He calls Sam to let him know he’s made it home, calls Chester Phillips to let him know he’s back and ready for work. There were reporters and photographers at the airport, like always, so he knows that his return will be in someone’s column tomorrow, so he stops there and falls into bed. He wakes up early, still on London time, and gives up on trying to go back to sleep. He makes coffee and goes to the door as soon as he hears the thump of the paper being delivered.

The news here isn’t quite as alarmist as the papers in Britain, watching Germany with wary eyes. Steve reads through more things that FDR is doing to mitigate the effects of the depression and the rest of the news before he turns to the entertainment section. He stops before he manages to read anything, arrested by the photo taking up most of the page. He skims the headline about the _Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs_ premiere then goes back to the tagline on the photo.

_James Barnes and Hedy Lamarr, the newest ‘It’ couple, were among the stars that came out to celebrate the premiere of Walt Disney’s first full length animated feature._

He lets the paper fall to the table and shuts his eyes. They look good together, complement each other, and the picture’s burned into his brain, vivid even with his eyes closed. Steve knows Hedy is smart as a whip, a perfect match for Bucky. Any children they have would be – will be – gorgeous. Steve feels gut-punched and jealous. He wonders how long it takes to be designated an ‘it’ couple. If it’s just three weeks or if it’s been longer. If, even before Peggy’s announcement.

No. He can’t believe that. Won’t let himself, no matter how seductive it is to let himself spiral. But, like Bucky had said, he and Steve were simply friends with benefits. So even if he had been seeing someone else, Steve wouldn’t have the right to complain. That doesn’t stop it from hurting though. From knowing that Bucky’s moving on to something real. That he’s found or is going to find someone to be with and love in the open, and Steve’s never going to have that. Seeing Sam and Peggy in what amounted to their own honeymoon had already had him thinking, but this drives it home.

He tosses the paper aside and goes to shower before heading out to eat, since there’s no food in the house. He’s deluged with back slaps and congratulations and commiserations that Peggy’s in England. Steve takes it all in stride, but he’s glad to get to his table and hide behind the menu. He doesn’t have that defense once his order’s been taken, so of course that’s when he looks up and sees Bucky walking into the restaurant with Hedy on his arm.

Steve nods when Bucky meets his eyes and hopes that that’s the end of it, though he knows it won’t be. They make their way over to Steve’s table and Steve invites them to join him, because that’s really the only choice he has. Bucky looks torn for a moment, but Hedy answers that they’d be happy to. Bucky holds the chair out for her before he sits as well. 

“Steve, have you met Hedy? 

“In passing. Nice to officially make your acquaintance, Miss Lamarr.”

“Hedy, please.” The waitress comes over with menus, saying she’ll be right back. In the midst of looking over the menu, Hedy glances up at him. “I imagine you can tell me all sorts of sordid stories about James.”

“I don’t know about sordid, but I can tell you he refuses to do laundry until he has absolutely no choice. And then he’d mix all of his clothes with mine so I had to take care of it.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “So much less scandalous than I’d hoped.”

Bucky smiles at her. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I doubt that seriously.” She turns back to Steve and rests her elbow on the table, her chin on her hand. “You just got back from England, right? How’s life as a married man?”

“Pretty much the same as it was before, only now we’re allowed to sleep together without causing an uproar.”

“But the uproar is half the fun.” She laughs as the waitress comes back and both she and Bucky place an order. “Now that you’re back in the same city, you two must be chomping at the bit to catch up. Am I going to lose you for a few days while you and Steve relive his lost bachelor days?”

Steve forces a smile, but before he can respond, Bucky answers. “It’s only been three weeks. I think we can forgo the weekend of debauchery.” 

"Yes," Steve nods, his smile even tighter. “Peggy frowns on debauchery these days. At least outside of the home.”

“You sound far more scandalous than James. Maybe I should have him tell me stories about you.”

“Afraid not. I’m a one-woman man and I might allude, but I don’t kiss and tell.” He glances at Bucky and hopes his smile looks realer than it feels. “And Bu-Barnes here doesn’t know all my secrets.”

“Just the important ones.”

“Oooh. Do tell.”

“No can do.” Bucky meets Steve’s gaze and gives him a small smile. “Code of brotherhood. Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Enough about me,” Steve knows the segue is weak, but he doesn’t know how else to move past the term of endearment. “What about you? How long have you two been together?”

“Hmm. What is it? Five or six weeks now?”

Bucky avoids Steve’s eyes. “We met six weeks ago.”

“So five then. I was terribly hurt when James didn’t invite me to your wedding reception.”

“I’m sorry he didn’t.” He pushes away from the table. “Would you excuse me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just weaves his way to the bathroom and locks himself in one of the stalls. He rests his forehead against the coolness of the door and closes his eyes, trying to keep from hyperventilating. He doesn’t think much time has passed before he hears the main door opening, but he can’t be completely sure. 

“Steve?”

“I’m fine.”

“It was just a few dates. Nothing happened, not really. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

“It’s fine. You guys seem happy.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “That’s what I want for you. You should go back out there. I’ll be out in a while.”

“Steve.”

“Please.”

“Okay. Okay.” Bucky sighs, then he pats the stall door. “Okay.”

Steve waits until the door to the bathroom shuts before coming out of the stall. He splashes his face with cold water and runs his fingers through his hair to get the wet strands into some semblance of order. He takes another deep breath to steady himself then goes back out into the restaurant. Bucky and Hedy are still sitting at the table, so Steve slides into his chair opposite them. Their food’s already been delivered, so Steve’s able to avoid most conversation as they eat.

As soon as he finishes, Steve makes the excuse that he has to meet up with Phillips to make sure everything’s on the same page while Sam is gone, saying goodbye and paying for all three meals on his way out. He does go to Chester’s office and checks in, makes sure he has all the information for his upcoming shoot. Finished with that, he goes to the grocery store then heads home, having to turn around when he realizes he’s making his way to his and Bucky’s – just Bucky’s – house.

Once the food is put away, he pours himself a drink and sits down with the script, glad for once that it’s another western so he doesn’t have to think too hard to do the role.

**

“Mr. Rogers! Mr. Rogers! Have you been back to England to see Peggy yet? When will she be home? What’s keeping her so long in England?”

Steve turns to the microphone with a smile, squinting slightly against the familiar blinding flash of the cameras. “She should be home soon. She’s been staying with her mother, taking care of her.” It’s not exactly a lie. She _is_ staying with her mother and, knowing Peggy, she probably is doing a little caretaking. “I’ve been to see her twice between roles, but I’ve got to keep the money coming in and the home fires burning.”

He answers a few more questions and turns to go when one of the reporters stops him. “Can we get a shot of you and Mr. Barnes together?”

Steve looks behind them to where Bucky and Hedy are on the red carpet getting their own questions. Someone asks about marriage and Bucky laughs. “She hasn’t asked me yet.” It’s been months since Steve’s seen him, but even without that, seeing Bucky in a tuxedo is something else. 

“Yeah, of course. As long as the lady doesn’t mind.” Steve steps back a ways while Bucky and Hedy come closer, letting them answer the next round of questions before the photographer that stopped Steve worms his way in.

“Mr. Barnes! A picture with Mr. Rogers? A memory of the bachelor boys?”

“Is that what they’re calling us?” Bucky laughs. “Kind of a misnomer, guys. He’s married and, well, I’ve got myself a gorgeous woman who’s willing to waste her time on the likes of me. Not so much bachelors these days.” He looks back at Steve and smiles, but the edges of it are dulled. “C’mon, Steve. Who are we to deny the public what it wants.”

“Certainly not me.” Steve walks up and wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky does the same, giving Steve a quick glance. Steve can see the rabbit-fast pulse in Bucky’s throat, and the urge to put his mouth on it makes Steve bite his tongue to stop himself. They turn toward each other and smile, and Steve can’t help but squeeze Bucky’s shoulder, fingers digging in slightly. Bucky meets his eyes and they hold each other’s gaze for a moment. 

“Over here, Steve and James! Over here!” They turn slightly to the next camera and the next until finally Steve releases Bucky’s shoulder, slapping it lightly instead. 

“Okay, that’s enough of my ugly mug. Take a picture of the beautiful lady.” He takes Hedy’s hand and leans in to kiss her cheek. She smiles widely in return and when Steve turns to Bucky, he holds out his hand. “Good to see you, James.”

“You too.” Instead of letting go of Steve’s hand, he holds it tighter. “There’s a party after. At the house. You should come. Nat’ll be there. She misses seeing you.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” He lets go of Bucky’s hand and moves away, waving to fans where they’re lined up behind the barriers at the red carpet. He finally slips inside the Biltmore and follows the crowd toward the ceremony. He finds his seat and settles in, smiling and saying hello to the others at the table. The two seats across from him are empty, and he somehow knows that he’s going to be sitting opposite Bucky. It’s not long before he’s proved right as Bucky pulls out Hedy’s chair and seats her before settling in his own.

“I forgot to say,” Steve leans in a little closer so Bucky can hear him over the din. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replies with a smile. “Too bad I’m not nominated. I think I’d take an Academy Award as a birthday present.”

“Not the worst gift in the world.”

“How’s everything going with Peggy?”

“Good. Right on track.”

“That’s great. Tell her I said hello next time you talk to her.”

“I will.” 

Before he can say any more, the lights dim and music starts up. Servers start appearing, bringing drinks and salads out for everyone. Halfway through the ceremony he excuses himself, moving out into the lobby for some fresh air. There are others there as well, most of them smoking. He goes to the bar to get a drink then finds a settee to relax on. As much as he loves acting, he doesn’t really like this aspect of it – the crowds and the press and the pomp and circumstance. He closes his eyes as he takes a drink, savoring the heated slide of liquid down his throat. He hears a low, throaty chuckle and opens one eye. Natasha smiles at him and settles next to him on the seat. “I can tell you’re missing that special someone. You looked like you were having really good sex when you drank that, and that’s just sad.”

“It’s really good scotch.” He holds out the glass to her. 

She takes it then takes a sip, tilting her head from side to side as she hands it back. “I’ve had worse.”

“But have you had better?”

“Sex? Yes. Scotch? Probably not.” She leans back and the slit of her skirt parts to expose one of her legs from just above her knee to her dangerously high heels. “How are you really?”

“Good. Like you said, missing that special someone.” He looks toward the ballroom then down at the glass for a moment before he takes another drink. “How about you? I saw your latest. You were amazing. Nice to see you in a comedy. You should do more if you can. Be the next Myrna Loy. Or have her be a second rate Natalie Rushman.”

“I’m not sure that will ever happen, but I’m more than happy to be listed in her company.” She leans slightly and rests her head on Steve’s arm. “We miss you, you know. You don’t have to be a stranger. I understand why, but still.”

“You and I could get together for dinner or something. Start some rumors.” He smiles down at her. “I miss you too. I’d invite you over, but I’m pretty sure that would do more than start rumors. ‘Rogers hasn’t even been married a year, but with his wife gone, he’s finding comfort in the arms of Natalie Rushman’.”

“I’m flattered, but I’m more the tall, dark, and handsome type.”

They’re quiet for a while, passing the drink back and forth between them. People are coming and going out of the lobby, some for the hotel and some for the ceremony. Steve breaks and asks the question he both does and doesn’t want the answer to. “Is he happy? With her?”

“He misses you.”

“That’s not the same thing.” He sets the glass, empty now, on the low table next to them. “And answers the question, I suppose.” He smiles weakly at nothing then sighs. “I just thought it would take longer, you know? But it didn’t even take until I was gone. Guess I should thank Peggy for her good timing. And Sam, I suppose.”

She takes his hand and threads her fingers with hers. “It wasn’t about you.”

“Yeah.” He laughs, and hates how bitter he sounds. “That’s the point, isn’t it?” After a long moment, he frees his hand and gets to his feet. “I should get back inside.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

He holds his arm out for her and they walk back toward the ballroom. He escorts her all the way to her seat and then goes back to his own table. Bucky looks at him with a concerned expression, and Steve just shakes his head and smiles. Bucky’s face doesn’t change, so Steve shrugs and sits down. He turns his attention to the stage, fiddling with his napkin as the awards are announced. He nearly jumps out of his skin from a sudden pressure on his ankle, and he glances at Bucky out of the corner of his eye. He can tell Bucky wants Steve to look at him, but instead he just moves his leg away.

It’s close to the end, with only best actor, actress, director, and motion picture. It seems like half the room is drunk and the other half bored – or possibly they’re all bored which is why they’re drunk – and some people have filtered out, off to home or to parties. Leo McCarey is announced for best director and Steve glances over where Cary Grant is sitting with Irene Dunne. The issues they had on set are well known, but Grant claps along with everyone else. Considering _The Awful Truth_ was box office gold, he can probably afford to be gracious.

Bucky’s leg touches Steve’s again, and this time Steve steadfastly ignores him through Luise Rainer winning best actress. Bucky kicks him hard during the applause and Steve instinctively kicks back. Bucky smiles triumphantly when Steve actually looks at him. Steve rolls his eyes and turns back to the stage. Bucky actually seems to be paying attention to best actor – or at least he doesn’t try to get Steve’s attention again – and he applauds loudly when Spencer Tracy wins for _Captains Courageous_. Bucky had gotten one of the co-starring roles over Melvyn Douglas, and Steve remembers how thrilled he’d been.

They’d celebrated.

Steve shakes his head once to clear it and moves his leg out of Bucky’s reach as they read the list of films up for best picture. Steve’s actually seen most of them, and he truly enjoyed _The Life of Emile Zola_ , so he’s happy when it wins. Even better though is the fact that now that the ceremony’s over, everyone’s filing out of the Biltmore Bowl and into the hotel, leaving in one of the many black cars that line the sidewalk. Steve’s almost out of the lobby when he feels a strong hand wrap around his wrist. 

“Let go.”

“No. You’re coming with us.” Bucky steers Steve toward where Hedy is standing. Steve doesn’t want to cause a scene, and ripping his arm out of Bucky’s grip and jerking away will do just that. 

“I’d really like to get home.”

“You’ve been on your own too long. Come to the party.” Bucky puts his hand in the small of Hedy’s back, but he doesn’t quite let go of Steve. He does angle them so no one can see them touching, but his hand on Steve’s wrist feels like a brand, like it’s burned into his flesh. As they get out on the street, Steve’s able to pull away, since Bucky has to open the door for Hedy.

"I'm really not up for a party.” He rubs his wrist where Bucky's hand had been. "But thanks. I mean, I'd love to see what you've done with the place. But you know how this kind of thing wears me out. You two have fun."

“Are you sure, Steve?" Hedy asks. "We haven't seen you in quite a while. I know James has missed you."

Steve sighs as quietly as he can. "Can't disappoint a lady." Bucky smiles, far too satisfied, and helps Hedy into the car. He follows her in then scoots over so Steve can slide in after him. He doesn’t move far, so he's closer to Steve than Hedy, their thighs touching. Steve doesn't have room to get closer to the door, can't get away from the heat and pressure of Bucky's leg. 

Hedy's talking, and Steve hopes it's not to him, because he's not listening, can't. His whole body is focused on Bucky. Fortunately, the fact that Bucky seems completely unaffected keeps Steve somewhat grounded. It doesn't stop his cock from growing hard, but Steve's keeping his hands to himself.

He'll take the win, no matter how pathetic that makes him.

The car pulls up to the house a short time later, and Steve knows he's not going to make it inside. The thought of seeing their life changed to just Bucky's, of seeing the touches Hedy has potentially made makes him freeze up, so much so that even the places that burn from where they touch go cold. 

Bucky nudges him and Steve thaws, managing to climb out of the car. Another one pulls up behind them and Natasha climbs out. She looks at Steve and must sense something, because she walks over immediately, her date trailing behind. 

She slides her arm though Steve's. "Let's go through the back to the pool. That's where the real party is." She guides him away from Bucky and Hedy and the path to the front door, heading toward the side of the house. The gate is open, several of the catering staff hiding just outside to smoke. They all rush to hide their cigarettes as the three of them come around the corner, but Natasha just laughs and waves a hand.

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with us. So long as you make sure this one right here," she points to Steve, "gets all the booze he wants."

"We'll make sure of it, Miss Rushman."

"Let's start as soon as you're done here. Scotch and soda."

"Just scotch."

Natasha shakes her head without even looking at Steve. "Let's keep it a little diluted. None of us want to hear you wax rhapsodic about the love of your life."

"Right." Steve sighs, not wanting to give too much thought to the statement. "Scotch and soda it is."

They walk into the party, and the backyard is transformed. There are lanterns strung up everywhere, and candles floating on the pool.

"Wow. It looks amazing," Steve says, awed. "Was this your idea?"

"Ah. No."

"Then wh- Oh. Right. The lady of the house. Stupid question." He glances over at Natasha's date who looks desperately uncomfortable. "You two should go have fun. I promise I don't need a babysitter."

She gives him a knowing look, but she nods. "Don't leave without saying goodbye."

"I won't." 

She gives him another sharp look then walks away. Steve goes to the corner of the pool farthest from the house and settles into a chair. The familiar blue lawn chairs Bucky had insisted on are nowhere to be seen.

A little while later one of the catering staff delivers the promised scotch and soda. Steve reasons with himself that he can last for one drink then he'll slip away. He's not particularly keen on breaking a promise to Natasha, but she'll probably forgive him at some point.

He's almost down to just the ice in his glass when he sees Bucky walking toward him. Steve tosses back the last of the drink and dumps his ice on the lawn. He knows he can't escape this, but he still wishes he had time to slip away.

"You know, you're supposed to mingle at a party. Talk to people."

"I talked to Natasha earlier."

"You remember the part where Hedy said she'd love to see you? Talk to you?"

"I'm sure that was for your benefit. She and I have had one conversation and that was at the most awkward lunch I've ever been a part of. I doubt she and I have very much to talk about."

"You could try."

"No. I really can't." Steve exhales slowly. "You're happy, and I'm glad. That's what I wanted for you. But I can't watch you be with her. I wish I could, but I can't. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite, but I can’t do it. So just make my excuses. Make up an excuse. But don't ask me to do this, okay? Please?"

Bucky comes closer. "I'm not cheating on you."

"You can't cheat on me when we're not together. It's fine that you're with her. It's fine."

"She's in love with someone else. Someone she's been with for a while, but they're not ready to go public. Pretty soon she's going to break my heart and leave me."

Steve can't imagine what look is on his face, though it apparently amuses Bucky. It takes a long time for Steve to actually speak. "Are you serious? Why didn't you…"

"Her agent approached Dugan. Said he'd heard I was looking to start settling down, so they set us up on a date. It was about two weeks before Sam and Peggy told us about the baby. She and I got along, and, with everything going on, we just kept it up."

"You could've…"

"The first time things got… heated. It was after you left. And. Well. Neither of us could go through with it. She told me she was in love with someone who was married and I." Bucky flushes and sighs. "I couldn't manage to work up any interest."

"Why are you just telling me this now? Why not then? Before I saw it in the paper? At some point within the next seven months?”

"I should have. I know that. But I was so mad. So hurt. I wanted you to hurt too."

"You don't think I was hurting?" Steve's voice is quiet, sad, but there’s an undercurrent of anger. "You had to know I didn't want to leave."

"I thought I did. But it seemed so quick and easy for you."

"None of it was easy, Bucky. Jesus. I did what I had to do. You know that. Sam practically saved me. He believed in me. Believed I had talent. He got me in front of Howard, got me my start. And he resisted falling for Peggy for so long. But they're in love.” His hands clench into fists and he has to take a step back, take a deep breath to calm down. “This wasn't supposed to cost me anything - to help them, to give me a chance to be safe, to let me be with someone. You. But instead, that's exactly what it did cost me."

"No. I still want you. To be with you."

Steve huffs a disbelieving laugh. "You let me believe you’re in love with someone else, Bucky, and now I find out it was a lie? How am I supposed to believe you now?"

"Steve…"

"Steve!" Howard calls out as he walks toward them, waving his hand as if his voice wasn't enough to catch their attention. "Long time, no see."

Steve sighs, almost embarrassed by how relieved he is. Howard gives him every excuse - all completely understandable - to leave. "I literally saw you yesterday, Howard."

"That was business. This is pleasure. Besides, you've been holed up. You got married, you didn't die." He grabs Steve's shoulder and squeezes. "The little woman's been gone the whole time. No reason you can't be out enjoying yourself."

"I dare you to call her that to her face."

"No thanks. I'm fond of my testicles right where they are." He takes a drink from his glass. "Heard your pictures on the red carpet were the talk of the town. You must be reminiscing about your bachelor days now that you're both spoken for, huh? Hanging out just brought back all the good memories?"

"No, actually. I was just heading out." Steve stands up. "Had a few drinks too many tonight, and I'm afraid I've just turned into a boring married man."

"Oh, c'mon, Rogers. While the cat's away, the mice will play, huh?"

Howard's definitely had too much to drink. "This mouse doesn't. Like you said, I like my testicles right where they are."

"Do you?" Bucky asks quietly, just loud enough for Steve to hear. 

Steve swallows hard but ignores him. "Just means more fun for the two of you. Good to see you, but if you'll excuse me."

"Have dinner with us tomorrow night," Bucky stands as well, hand on Steve's arm. "James Markey's coming over. We're barbecuing."

"I really don't think I can." Bucky gives him a look that's both a dare and a plea. And Steve, god help him, can't resist the dare. "But I'll see about rearranging my schedule."

"Great. We'll see you tomorrow night."

Steve ignores Bucky's smug look and says goodnight to Howard. He has to go through the house to call a cab, so he hurries through, not looking around until he gets to the phone in the entryway. As soon as he secures a cab, he goes out to the sidewalk to wait, putting as much distance between him and the house as possible.

His phone is ringing when he gets home, and he picks it up, hoping it's not Natasha or Bucky.

"Jesus, finally!" Sam snaps. "Where the hell have you been?"

"The Oscars. Why are you up so early?"

"We're at the hospital. Peggy's in labor."

"Oh, shit. Sam, that's great."

"How soon can you get out here?"

"I don't have anything lined up right now, so - "

"Get your arse over here!" The phone must not be far from Peggy's bed, because she comes through loud and clear.

"Me or Steve?"

"Both of you."

Steve can't help but laugh. "You'd better get back to her. I'll see if I can get a flight out tomorrow."

"Good. See you soon."

**

In the morning he calls Phillips and the airline, but he waits until just before his plane starts to board to call Bucky. Hedy answers the phone, and Steve passes on his regrets, explaining that Peggy called and wanted him to come out. She promises to tell Bucky, and Steve tells her he has to go board, even though they've yet to call his flight.

Once he does get on and seated, he closes his eyes with the intention of sleeping all the way to New York. He's not sure if he'll be able to sleep from New York to England, but he's going to try, both the head off jet lag and to keep himself from thinking.

He takes a cab from the airport to Peggy's mom's house where Peggy and Sam, and now the baby, are living. The maid opens the door for him, and he can hear the baby crying in the distance. 

"Quite a set of lungs."

"You've no idea, Mr. Rogers." She tries to take Steve's bag, but he won't let her. She sighs and throws up her hands, but she's smiling when she turns to show Steve to his room, even though she knows perfectly well that Steve knows the way.

The closer they get, the louder the baby is. As they reach the top of the stairs, Steve can see Sam walking the length of the hall, bouncing the baby gently. 

"Someone’s hungry," Steve says.

Sam turns and starts walking toward him. "She just ate. She's a glutton."

"She, huh? Must eat like her dad." He can't help grin at the look that comes over Sam's face. 

"I'm a dad." Sam's voice is filled with wonder. "I have a kid."

"Don't get too cocky. Pretty sure Peggy did all the hard parts. Now, c'mon. Hand her over."

Sam glances down at the baby in his arms. She's quieted down now, so he carefully settles her in Steve's arms. She has a few wisps of black hair that curls tightly against her head. Her eyes are deep brown, her lashes long. Her skin is light brown, and her face is wrinkled like she’s about to cry again. One of her hands is up by her head and Steve reaches for it, rubbing the softness of her skin. “She’s beautiful.”

“Of course she is. Look at her parents.” Sam’s grin is wide and bright, even though he looks exhausted.

“What’s her name?”

“Alice.”

“Alice. I like it.” Her fingers grasp at one of Steve’s. “Have you slept at all?”

“Yeah. A day ago, I think? Maybe two.”

“Okay, you go get some sleep.”

“Peg’s asleep.”

“And you should be too. I’ll be fine for a while, and I’m sure Peggy’s mom is around here somewhere.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Sam, you’re dead on your feet. Come on. I’ll even stay right outside the room, and you can keep the door open.”

It takes him a moment, but Sam finally sighs tiredly and gives in, heading into the room where Peggy’s sleeping. Steve walks up and down the hallway just outsid, humming softly. Alice yawns and turns her head, snuggling into her blanket close to Steve’s chest. He smiles down at her, fairly certain that he’s already in love. 

“Well, if it isn’t my delinquent son-in-law.”

Steve grins at Peggy’s mother, Amelia, as she walks down the hall toward him. “Hello, Mrs. Carter.”

“You are a terrible husband, leaving my daughter alone for so long.”

“I left a perfectly good man – a better man - in my stead.” Steve leans down to kiss her cheek. “Congratulations.”

“Never congratulate a woman on becoming a grandmother. It’s gauche. It just reminds her that she’s getting older.”

“And more beautiful.” 

“I married a flatterer, Steven, and it ended poorly. Don’t think you can sway me into liking you.”

“Poorly? So if your poor relationship ended after fifty-one years, how long would a good one last?”

“Well, I’ll never know now that the bastard died on me.” A small smile quirks the corner of her lips. “Now, give me little Alice.”

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t do that. I’m never letting her go.”

“I imagine you’ll let her go the moment it’s time to change her nappy.” She gives him a long look then finally shrugs. “Fine.” She moves to the other side of the hall, sinking down into one of the chairs against the wall. “How was your flight?”

“Not too bad. Slept through most of it.”

“And how is tinsel town?”

“Doesn’t really change.”

“Peggy and Sam took me to see your last movie. You looked very handsome. Must be all that movie magic.”

“Wow. I’m hurt.” He frowns at her, but can’t keep it up for very long. “You haven’t had any problems with Sam living with you, have you? I know he wouldn’t tell me if you did.”

“Oh, no. Everything’s been fine. Given Peggy’s state, they didn’t do much out and about. She was registered under Peggy Wilson, so there’s hopefully not going to be any press announcement from the hospital staff. That would rather ruin their plans.”

“I’m sure Sam’s been very careful.”

“Oh, they both have. You’ve been something of a homebody yourself, from what I hear.”

“Not much reason to go out on the town when my wife isn’t around. No one to show off.” He stops walking and sways instead. Alice’s eyes are closed, her mouth open for each soft puff of breath. “Besides, I wasn’t exceptionally social before Peggy left, so I doubt anyone missed me really. I did my part attending things I couldn’t get out of, but no sense in reminding everyone that Peg wasn’t around.”

“They’re very lucky to have you.”

“I’m very lucky to have them.” Alice smacks her lips and sniffles, snuggling closer to Steve. “Oh, no. If you’re looking for something to eat, I’m not who you need to be looking at. I can make you a sandwich, but that’s about all.”

“Take her in to Peggy.” Amelia stands and turns Steve around, pushing him toward Peggy’s room. When Steve walks in, Peggy glances over at him. She looks bedraggled and exhausted and absolutely beautiful.

“You did good, Pegs.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She reaches for Alice and Steve places her carefully in her arms. 

Steve blushes profusely as she pushes her gown out of the way to breastfeed, looking away as quickly as he can. “Peggy.”

“Goodness, Steven. It’s not as if you’ve never seen one before.”

“No, but I do my best to avoid them.” 

Peggy snorts indelicately. “Well, I assure you they don’t bite, so you’ve nothing to worry about.” She glances over at Sam then back down at Alice. “How on earth did you get him to sleep?”

“I out-stubborned him.”

“Of course you did.” Peggy says with a nod. “You’re worse than a dog with a bone when you get an idea in your head. Surprised you haven’t taken the world record.”

“I’m only letting you pick on me because you just had a baby. Otherwise I’d be defending myself.”

She sighs and smiles. “I’m glad you came.”

“Of course I came.” He goes over to her and kisses the top of her head. “Wouldn’t leave my wife alone in her hour of need.”

“I need you like I need a hole in the head, darling. Don’t you forget that.”

“I wouldn’t.” He sits on the edge of the bed, smoothing Alice’s hair with the palm of his hand. He feels huge next to her smallness, his hand bigger than the curve of her skull. 

“How is James?”

Peggy asks the question lightly, but pointedly. Steve bites his lower lip for a moment before answering. “Good. Saw him at the Oscars. Went over to the party at the house for a bit.”

“And did you talk to him?”

Steve cuts a quick glance to Peggy’s mother, but she rolls her eyes and waves him away. “Steven, if I didn’t know by now, I’d be both blind and imbecilic, and I can assure you I’m neither of those things. I’ve met my daughter’s _actual_ husband, you know.”

“Sorry. Force of habit.” She waves her hand dismissively to tell him to go on. “Yeah. We talked for a bit.”

“Well, miracles may never cease.”

“Didn’t have much reason to talk to him,” Steve snaps then sighs. “He told me the relationship with Hedy is all a ruse so she can be with someone the studio doesn’t want her with. I don’t know if she knows about him. Or me and him.”

“When did he tell you that?”

“Last night.”

“Last…” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Her eyes are narrowed and her jaw is set, but she manages to relax as Alice makes a noise. “Well. That’s good right? For the two of you?”

“Yeah, Or it would have been seven months ago. Or maybe not, since I just found out he'd been seeing her before all of this happened. Before he lied to me, kept it from me that it wasn’t real. Before he let me think he just moved on without a pause.” He realizes his voice has gotten loud, so he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Sorry. You don’t need me telling you all of this. This is a happy occasion and we’re supposed to be celebrating you and Alice."

“I know how you are, Steve. You don’t have anyone else to talk to, do you? Sam and I left you all alone.”

“I have other friends.”

“None that actually know you.” She looks down at Alice, and Steve follows her gaze by instinct, blushing hotly as he realizes. “Sorry.”

“Take her for a moment, won’t you?”

Steve takes her from Peggy’s arms very carefully, bringing Alice to his chest and holding her close. Peggy adjusts her gown then takes Alice back, putting her against her chest and patting her back to burp her. It’s extremely loud and wakes Sam up.

“What? Huh?”

“Come put your daughter in her bassinet, dear.”

Sam yawns hugely and gets up, taking Alice and looking down at her like she’s the brightest thing in the world. After she’s swaddled and settled, Sam comes back over and kicks Steve away from the bed and settles next to Peggy. “How long are you staying?”

“Don’t have anything to report to for a couple of months, so unless something comes up or you get sick of me, which is the most likely scenario, I can stay that long.”

“That’s actually perfect,” Peggy says. “We should be ready to go home then also. We can bring our new adopted child back with us.”

“You’re not worried about that looking suspicious?”

“No one would even think of Peggy having a black child,” Sam shrugs. “Besides, I have to go back next week, so there won’t be any suspicion that I’m the father. So you’re going to have to take care of both my girls for me.”

“Sam…”

“No.” He strokes the back of Peggy’s hand. “We knew we’d have to make sacrifices to be together. And we both hate it, but this is one of them. We’ve got you though, so I know they’re in good hands. Almost as good as my own.”

“I don’t know anything about being a father. I grew up without one, remember?”

“You’re a good man, Steve. That’s what matters.” Peggy covers her mouth as she yawns. “Now all of you go away. I’m taking advantage of her nap to do the same.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sam informs her.

“Fine, you can stay. But if you wake me up, I’m liable to shoot you.”

“Anyone else, I’d say that was an empty threat.” Sam leans down and kisses Peggy as she tilts her head back for him. “But I’ve met you.”


	4. 1938

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Co-creator odetteandodile

**Stark Contract: -5**

By the time they’re ready to go back to L.A., Steve has learned more about women and babies than he ever wanted to know. He teases both Peggy and Sam that Alice likes him the best, and he’s fairly sure it’s true. Sam, to get back at him, talks about seeing Natasha and Bucky. It’s possible he’s just passing on news to him and Peggy, but it always feels pointed.

When they land, Sam’s waiting at the airport along with groups of reporters and photographers. They’re expecting it since stories about Steve and Peggy adopting had been leaked right after Alice was born. Steve keeps his arm around Peggy and they both say all the right words, eventually getting through when Alice lets out a screaming cry. Peggy immediately starts bouncing her, but the flashes and noise keep her from being soothed.

Sam gets them all out to a car and they ride out to the house. The driver’s from a car service, so Sam can’t kiss or touch Peggy like he so obviously wants to, can’t remind Alice of who he is. When they get home, Steve shoos them into the house while he pays the driver and grabs all their luggage. He stops at the guest room to drop his things off, but it’s been turned into a nursery, all soft yellows and pale greens. 

“I’m not going to fit in this bed, Sam.”

“Don’t worry. We’re not kicking you out. Bucky and Nat helped me set up the apartment over the garage, so you’ve got space all to yourself.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Steve.” Sam comes over to him and claps his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re doing this for us, and we’ve got at least another year to go. It’s the _least_ we can do. Besides, putting Alice up there would be a little weird, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs. “A little.”

“And if you wanted to have company...”

“I don’t,” Steve snaps as he stiffens. After a deep breath he relaxes, calmer. “But thank you.”

“I talked to Barnes – “ Sam doesn’t even try to finish the sentence after looking at Steve. “Okay. Well, we moved all your stuff, so you should go get settled.”

“Yeah. Right. Thanks.” He hears Peggy sigh as he walks away, but ignores it, going into the garage and taking the stairs up to the storage room cum apartment. He drops his suitcase and goes straight to the bathroom, stripping and climbing in the shower. Once he’s done and mostly dried off, he pulls on clean underwear and sits on his bed.

The phone on the nightstand rings, and the number written in the middle of the dial is different from Sam and Peggy’s, so he assumes it’s for him. 

“Hello?”

“We’re coming over to meet the baby tomorrow,” Natasha says. “I fully expect you to be there, or we’re marching upstairs and invading your space.”

“I really don’t – “

“Hedy is marrying James Markey. He finally pulled rank with the studios and the official story is that he romanced her under poor, unsuspecting Bucky’s nose. He misses you and he’s sorry, and the least you can do is see him.”

“The least I can do is not be home when he gets here and never see him again except when we cross paths at functions.”

“But is that what you want?” When Steve doesn’t say anything, she sighs. “I didn’t take you for a coward.”

“Well, I didn’t expect to get lied to for a good seven months. So we don’t always know what’s going to happen, do we?” Steve’s voice is hard, though that’s not his intention. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take this out on you.”

“So he doesn’t merit another chance? Those two years didn’t mean anything?”

“Put yourself in my shoes, Natasha.”

“Have you tried putting yourself in his?”

Steve laughs, barely more than a puff of air. “Yeah. And I’d have understood – I do understand – being hurt and upset. But I’d also understand keeping a promise you made, even if you’re keeping it in a different way than you expected. What I don’t understand is deliberately hurting someone you’re supposed to care about. Not for over half a year.” He bends his head forward and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I was honest with him up front. He let me think – for seven months – that he was sleeping with her, that he was… That they were…”

“I understand.”

“Was Fairbanks still screwing his wife when he was with you?”

Natasha sucks in a sharp breath and, when she speaks, her voice is tight. “He said he wasn’t.”

“Did you believe him?” Her silence tells him all he needs to know. “I understand you’re his friend, Nat –” 

“I’m your friend too.”

“And your loyalty’s to him. And maybe he’s telling the truth, but how do I know?”

“You trust him.” Se says it matter-of-factly, like it's that simple.

“I don’t know that I can anymore.” He sighs. “I promise to be here if I can.”

“Is that the most I’m getting out of you?”

“The best I can do.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No promises.”

“Of course not. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Steve hangs up with a sigh, because he knows there’s no point in arguing with her. Just like he knows he’ll be there tomorrow, he’ll see Bucky. Not that it’s going to matter. He has at least a year of his marriage left, and that’s not going to change. And, no matter what the truth is, as quickly as Bucky moved on to Hedy, the odds of him waiting for Steve aren’t in Steve’s favor. 

He walks over to the light and shuts it off, heading back to the bed. It was a long flight and a long day, and tomorrow doesn’t look any better. Not that he’ll get much sleep tonight, since all he’s thinking of is Bucky.

**

_After an extended stay in England, Peggy (Carter) Rogers is back on American soil with husband Steve, and this time they're not alone. Little Alice Rogers joined the family whilst in England. Parents and newlyweds all at once!_

He’s got Alice in his arms when the doorbell rings. Sam and Peggy are having ‘alone time’, which he’s doing his very hardest not to picture, think about, or, worst case scenario, hear. He carries her over and opens the door without looking, swallowing hard when he sees Bucky and Natasha standing there. 

“I thought you were coming later.” 

“We lied.” Natasha shrugs. “Or, well, I did. Give me the baby.” 

“Sam and Peggy are… uh, indisposed right now. It’s a bad time.” 

“Give me the baby, Rogers, and no one gets hurt.” He hands Alice over to Natasha, because he knows she’s not kidding. She takes her and holds her in one arm, putting her free hand on Steve’s shoulder and pulling him down so she can kiss his cheek. “Good boy.” 

“I am an adult, you know.” 

“I’ll believe it when you act like it. Say hello to Bucky.” 

“Hi, Buck.” 

“Hey, Steve.” He says it softly, warmly and Steve hates that it pierces straight through him. “How are you?” 

“Good. Um. Come in. Can I get either of you anything?” Natasha’s already moved past him and into Alice’s room, settling on the rocking chair. Steve grits his teeth. “Can I get you anything, I guess.” 

“Coffee?” 

“I can do that. Have a seat.” Steve waves his hand toward the living room then goes into the kitchen. The door swings shut behind him, then open again as Bucky follows him in. “I’ll bring the coffee in.” 

“In here’s fine.” 

“There’s not a lot of room in here.” 

Bucky bites his lower lip and takes a step toward Steve. “Natasha told me you know about Hedy.” 

“She told me you split up.” Steve doesn’t mean to take a step back, but can’t help it as Bucky comes closer. The counter’s at his back, so he can only move sideways to get away from Bucky. “What will you do now?” 

“Recover from my broken heart.” He says it dramatically, pressing his hand to his chest. “Maybe hang out with my best friend more. If he’ll let me.” 

“He’s still married. Will be for a while.” 

“I don’t care. I miss him. I miss hanging out with him, never mind all the other stuff.” He sighs. “I know I hurt you, but I miss you, Steve. Please.” 

“The ‘other stuff’ is off the table. I saw you with her. I spent months trying not to picture you with her. I don’t care what really happened. I don’t care if it was platonic or if you… If you were together. Right now that’s what I see when I look at you. I see her. I see how you two looked together. I see you with the actual life you could be living.” 

“That’s not the life I want.” 

“No? Being able to be with the person you want? Being in public, not having to pretend that you’re just friends? Not having to stop yourself from touching someone? You’d rather have this?” 

“I’d rather have you.” He takes another step, closing the distance between them, his hands on the counter on either side of Steve so he can’t move away. “However I can.” 

He can feel the heat of Bucky’s arms where they’re pressed against his sides, and he’s missed it. Missed being touched. Missed being touched by Bucky. The memory of his hands on Steve’s skin are like ghosts pricking goosebumps all over his body. He wants to shake his head. Wants to say no. Wants to give in. Wants to surrender. 

Bucky takes a hand off the counter and puts it on Steve’s shoulder, slides it over to curve around the side of his neck. “Please.” 

Steve’s breath hitches and he closes his eyes. “Please don’t.” The words are shaky, barely more than a whisper. Bucky sighs and Steve feels him step back. He opens his eyes and Bucky looks sad and hurt and lost. “Let’s… let’s just see how today goes. Everything else is off the table, but we started off as friends. Maybe we can work our way there again.” 

“That’s all I want. A chance to – “ He pauses and takes a breath. “A chance.” 

“We should get back out there. With coffee. Peggy and Sam are probably. Well. Probably in the living room by now. So. Cups. And coffee.” He fumbles one of the cabinets open, but Bucky eases him aside to get the cups out. Steve’s not sure if the coffee pot is any safer in his trembling hands, but hopefully the thought of burning liquid splashing him will keep him from dropping or spilling it. 

Bucky goes through the swinging door back into the main body of the house, and Steve takes a deep breath before following him. Sam, Peggy, Natasha, and Alice are all in the living room. Bucky’s setting the cups on the coffee table and, once he joins them, Steve pours. Of course, the other three are sitting so that Steve has to sit next to Bucky on the loveseat. He glares at each of them in turn, but they all do their best to look innocent. They fail miserably. 

Steve stands back up, practically immediately and goes over, taking Alice from Natasha. He goes back to the loveseat and sits down far enough away that there’s space between him and Bucky before he hands Alice off to him. Bucky's eyes widen, somewhat panicked, but Steve crosses his arms over his chest so he can’t give her back and he can’t actually touch Steve. Natasha rolls her eyes at him, but he ignores her, reaching forward to grab his coffee. 

He realizes his tactical error when he looks over at Bucky. He’s bent over Alice, his hair falling forward as he rubs his nose against hers. Her fingers are curled tightly around one of Bucky’s. Something in Steve’s chest twists and he can’t look away. He doesn’t have any desire for kids, knows it’s out of the realm of possibility for him unless he enters another lavender marriage, but seeing Bucky with a baby drives home the knowledge that Bucky deserves more than a relationship he has to hide. He deserves to have this. Wife. Child. Family. 

Everyone looks at him startled as he sets his coffee cup down with a clatter. “Excuse me.” He goes into the kitchen and through the door that leads to the garage. He takes the stairs three at a time and shuts and locks his door behind him. Slumping against it, he slides down to the floor. With his elbows on his knees, he buries his face in his hands, fingers tight in his hair. 

He’s not surprised when the knock comes, though he is surprised at how long it takes. “Steve? Darling?” 

“Go away, Peggy. Please.” 

“I don’t think I can.” 

“I think you’d be surprised.” His voice feels milky with tears, but his eyes are dry. 

“I’m just as stubborn as you. I can sit out here just as long.” 

“You’ll need to feed Alice at some point.” 

“I’ll have Sam up here in my stead for just as long as that takes, and then I’ll be back. So please. Open the door and talk to me.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me how stupid I was?” 

“You’re going to have to narrow it down.” Her voice is light, trying to inject humor, but even she seems to realize it falls short. “It’s not stupid to want to be with someone.” 

"Yeah, it is. For me. With him. With a man. We shouldn't have ever started." 

"You can't help who you love, Steve." 

The word hits him like a hammer. He's done his best not to think about it, not to admit his feelings, because he knows it's stupid. Knows Bucky doesn't feel the same. "It's not love. I thought it was but - " 

She scoffs. "I'd tell you that you can lie to yourself, but not to me, but I don't think even you believe it." 

"He's going to have a family some day. A wife. Kids. Let's be honest about that. And I'll be nice Uncle Steve at most. Assuming he'd want a reminder of what he used to be." 

"Used to be? Don't be ridiculous. It's not like he changes what he likes because he chooses a partner of a particular sex. I know you're not stupid enough to think that." She sighs. "Open the door. It's uncomfortable out here." 

"No. I'll come out." 

"Pardon?" He can hear the shock in her voice and he realizes what he said. 

"Of the room. I'm not intending to sabotage my career. Or his." He forces himself to his feet, takes a deep breath before unlocking and opening the door. 

Peggy's leaning against the wall waiting for him. He knows his face must be blotched with red, his eyes glassy, but she's nice enough not to comment. She waits for Steve to precede her down the stairs, no doubt worried he'll turn tail and run to hide back behind the locked door again. He's not sure he wouldn't. 

When they get back to the living room Alice is securely in Sam's arms and Bucky has something much stronger than coffee in front of him. Steve sits on the couch with him, still far enough away not to be touched, but Bucky looks like he has no intention of it. The whole room is tense and uncomfortable and Steve/s just about to suggest that he leave again when Bucky stands up. 

"I should go. I have a dinner meeting." He nods. "Sam, Peggy, congratulations. She's beautiful, and I'm really happy for you." 

Peggy goes over to him and puts her hands on his shoulders, rising up enough to kiss his cheek. "I expect Uncle Bucky to pay homage to the princess at least once a week." 

Bucky glances quickly at Steve then smiles at Peggy. "I'll do my best to give her the treatment she rightly deserves." 

Nat waves Bucky off when he looks at her. "I'll get a ride. I need more baby time to curb any motherhood urges I have no intention of giving into." 

"You'd make a great mom," Steve says. 

"Well, if I end up in that situation, I know who to call to marry me." She winks at Steve. "Assuming you're not otherwise engaged." 

"Married, not engaged," Peggy reminds her with a laugh. 

"Um." Steve can feel the blush creeping up his neck, his ears. "I'll walk you out." 

Bucky's eyebrows go up, but he still turns and heads to the door. Steve follows in his footsteps and they stop just inside the foyer. "Did you want to say something, Steve?" 

"No." He shakes his head, because he honestly doesn't know what he's doing, following Bucky, risking being close to him when the sight and smell of him make Steve _want_. "I mean, I'm sorry for earlier. Running out. I just. Well." 

"You're forgiven." 

"I miss you too." It comes out in a rush, words he doesn't intend to say, but can't help it. And he can't take them back. "I just can't…. Seeing you with Alice. Knowing…" 

"Knowing what?" 

"Eventually you'll want that. Want someone who can give that to you. And one day you're going to walk away from this, but it won't be pretend. It'll be real and she'll be real and you'll have a life and a family. And you deserve that." 

"So do you." 

"I can't have that. Peggy's going to be the love of my life, and when our marriage falls apart, it's going to destroy me. I'll vow to never love again." He shrugs. "I'm already lying about what I am. I don't want to lie about everything else." 

"What does all this mean for us? To me? What are you telling me here, Steve?" 

He swallows hard. "It was… Seeing you with her was hard. Painful. I don't… If we were together again, I don't think I’d be able to handle you walking away." 

"So what? We just pretend nothing ever happened? That we never met? That we're strangers? For what? For some far-off possible future? So you can go back to sneaking out of town for one-night stands?" Steve flinches like he's been slapped. "That's what you want?" 

"I can't have what I want." 

"Yes, you goddamned can!" Bucky grabs Steve's shoulders and shoves him against the wall, pressing close. Steve's breath stops as Bucky's whole body settles against his. "It's right fucking here. _I'm_ right fucking here." 

"For how long?" 

"I don't know, Steve! Until I get hit by a bus. Until you fall off a horse and break your skull open. Until one of us is in the wrong place at the wrong time. There's not a timeline." Bucky's voice drops so it's just between the two of them. "I'm not looking for anyone. I _have_ someone. If he's not too stupid to realize it." 

Steve opens his mouth to say something, to argue, but then thinks better of it. Bucky seems to be waiting, but Steve can’t think of anything to say. 

Sighing, Bucky shakes his head. “Goodnight, Steve.” 

He watches Bucky leave, until he’s in the car and driving away. He closes his eyes as he shuts the door, his head making a solid thunk as it hits the wood. It hurts so he does it again a couple more times. Finally he exhales roughly and goes back into the living room. He’s pretty sure all of them, including Alice, are judging him, so he just gestures toward the kitchen and heads up to his room. 

** 

“Charity thing,” Sam says, sliding a piece of paper across his desk as Steve sits down. “Tennis.” 

“I can’t remember the last time I played tennis. I don’t know if I’ve ever played tennis.” 

“You’re going to now. You and Barnes. Doubles. Might want to learn.” 

“Bucky? Why? Do you do these things to me on purpose?” 

“Nope.” Sam shrugs, not so much smiling as smirking. “Just lucky. Besides, it’ll be good training for this.” 

Steve picks up the script Sam passes over. He opens it and thumbs through it, not quite sure he believes what’s on the page. “This is a comedy.” 

“Yep.” 

“A _Sturges_ comedy.” 

“I know.” 

“How did I get this?” 

Sam grins widely. “They asked for you.” 

Steve shakes his head. “Who did?” 

“The studio. Sturges himself apparently. Wanted someone that no one would expect to do comedy, and your last movie convinced him you could do it. You’re Roger.” 

“Roger?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “Really?” 

“Maybe he had you in mind when he wrote it. Con man who romances a society woman. Her brother’s suspicious, so there’s all sorts of misunderstandings and hijinks.” 

Steve sounds disbelieving to his own ears. He knows his eyes are wide. He thinks he might be dreaming. “I’m going to be in something with hijinks.” 

“If you want it.” 

“What? Yes. Of course I want it. Jesus, Sam.” 

Sam laughs. “There is one small caveat.” 

Steve raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest. “That sounds ominous.” 

“Barnes.” 

“Barnes?” 

“He’s playing the brother.” 

“Of course he is.” Steve sighs then stops and looks at Sam in confusion. “Wait. _I’m_ the love interest? Me. Are you sure?” 

“Why wouldn’t you be?” 

“You just said Bucky was in the movie.” 

Sam sighs as he rolls his eyes. “You’ve got to get over this. You’re gorgeous. Women lust after you. Men probably do too, they just don’t admit it. Hell, Barnes does and he does admit it. Not everybody goes for tall, dark, and handsome.” He leans back in his chair and tents his fingers under his chin. “So." 

“So?” 

“You want the part? I gotta let ‘em know.” 

“You’re seriously asking if I want the part?” 

“Nah. I’m just fuckin’ with you. I already told them you’d take it. Now, get out of here. Principle starts in three weeks.” 

“Thanks, Sam.” 

“And you might want to get with Barnes about that tennis match. And blame Dugan for that one. I had nothing to do with it. If you guys are still on the outs though, might want to have Bucky let him know that pairing you two up might not be the best idea.” 

“It’ll be fine. I’ll talk to him. I mean, I’ll call him.” 

“Oh, and Howard wants to talk about your contract. It’s up in a year.” 

“And he wants to be rid of me?” 

“He wants to re-sign you. I think he’ll offer you a decent deal. He’s branching out – buying a radio station, I guess. He wants me to talk to Peggy about doing radio work since he doesn’t think she’ll be able to handle movies with a kid. He won’t say that, but I can tell he’s thinking it. Because he’s Howard and that’s how he thinks when it comes to women.” 

“That would last the rest of her contract?” 

“Think so. We haven’t hashed out details.” 

“That would be great for you guys, wouldn’t it? She could be at home. Could be with you and Alice. We wouldn’t have to worry about alternating her and my schedules to maintain the illusion.” 

“Yeah. That’s the hope. He brought it up today at lunch. I haven’t broached it with Peg yet. Not sure how she’ll react to Howard thinking she can’t be an actress and mother. But with our situation, it’s not like we can hire someone to watch Alice, so it would actually work out for the best. And be something that could last her well past the age when the studios suddenly can’t find parts for her.” 

“You’re worried she’ll dig her heels in and make Howard keep her in the movies?” 

“I wouldn’t put it past her. Going along quietly isn’t exactly Peggy’s style.” 

“I’m pretty sure that doing the best for her family is though.” Steve reaches over and squeezes Sam’s shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

“Yeah. You’re really going to get in touch with Barnes? I mean, I can call Dugan.” 

“He’s working on an MGM picture. I’ll swing by the lot and see if I can find him.” He shrugs at Sam’s look. “It’s a small world. Pretty easy to keep tabs, even if you’re not trying.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Don’t, Sam.” 

“I’m not saying anything.” 

“You’re saying a hell of a lot, you’re just not saying it aloud.” Steve shakes his head. He holds up the script he’s clutching tightly. “Thanks for this.” 

“It wasn’t me. It’s all you.” 

“Yeah, well, if I didn’t have you in my corner, it’d be a different story. I’m going to go find Bucky. See you tonight.” 

Sam waves him off, so Steve heads down to his car. He sets the script on the passenger seat and stares at it for a moment before bursting into delighted laughter. It takes several minutes before he’s composed himself enough to drive, and even so, he can’t help giggling as he makes his way to the MGM lot. He’s a familiar face, so he gets waved through even though he’s not on the list. 

He parks near the sound stage and runs into Spencer Tracy outside smoking. Tracy nods, and Steve walks over. “You looking for Barnes?” 

“Yeah. He shooting?” 

“Literally today. Little brother’s gettin’ it in the leg. Terrible business.” He shakes his head and exhales a puff of smoke, running a finger under his priest’s collar. “Supposed to break for lunch in a half-hour if you want to wait around.” 

“I will. Thanks.” 

“How’s the wife and kid?” 

“Good, good. I didn’t realize they grew up so quickly. Feels like I’m going to turn around and she’ll be sixteen before I’m even ready for her to be walking.” 

“Yeah.” Tracy frowns and it’s easy to tell he’s thinking of his own kids. His personal life has been talked about openly enough that his son’s deafness, his separation from his wife, his drinking, and numerous affairs are common knowledge. “Hopefully nurture’s better than nature, huh? You don’t know anything about her parents, right?” 

Steve tries not to bristle, to give him some leeway knowing his situation, but it still rankles. “I’m not worried about her. Peggy’s a fantastic mom.” 

“All-American boy like you, she’s probably not too bad off in the father department either.” 

“Doing my best.” 

They both go silent then. Steve forces himself not to shift uncomfortably in the quiet. Finally, Tracy drops his cigarette and grinds the butt into the ground just as the shooting bell rings. “Sounds like that’s a cut.” He opens the sound stage door and walks in, Steve following close behind. Bucky’s talking to Mickey Rooney on set still, discussing blocking from the look of it. 

“Oi, if it ain’t Father Flanagan,” Rooney calls out in a horrible approximation of an Irish accent. “And ‘e’s found himself an angel.” 

“You obviously don’t know Steve,” Bucky tells him with a laugh. They both walk over and Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky. “He’s got horns, not a halo.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Steve retorts and Bucky just smiles. “You have time for lunch?” 

Steve doubts anyone else sees the flash of uncertainty in Bucky’s eyes before he nods. “You buying?” 

“Yeah, c’mon, asshole.” Steve puts his arm around Bucky, gripping tight at his shoulder. Bucky tries to shrug him off playfully, but Steve refuses to let go until they’re back on the lot and headed for the commissary. “Dugan talked to Sam today, and I thought we should put our heads together before anything goes public.” 

Bucky stops walking and looks at Steve, eyes wide. “What do you mean ‘goes public’?” 

“Oh. No. Just publicity stuff. Nothing… Nothing worrisome. Apparently we have to learn how to play tennis for some charity event. And we’re going to be costars.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah. I got the script for the new Sturges comedy. Apparently I’m playing Roger to your Bartholomew.” 

“Bartholomew. Awful.” 

“Barty?” 

“Don’t push your luck.” They get in line as once they’re at the commissary, grabbing trays to slide along the metal bars. “So what’s this about tennis? Since when do you play tennis?” 

“I don’t. But someone must think I do, because they’ve tapped us to play in this tournament. Dugan told Sam all about it. So I need to learn before we embarrass ourselves.” 

“You mean before you embarrass us.” 

“If you want to get technical. I assume that means you know how to play?” 

“Some of us aren’t uncultured swine.” They get to the register and Bucky waves to both trays, paying for Steve’s lunch as well as his own. His look is a dare for Steve to say something, so he stays quiet until they get to the table. 

“Sadly, tennis wasn’t one of the things they offered up as a hobby in the orphanage.” 

“Huh. Seems like that would be in demand.” Bucky sits down opposite Steve and peels the wrapper off his sandwich. “So are you hiring someone or is it going to fall to me to teach you?” 

“Well, I would assume you’d want me to complement your playing style, so that would be best done by you training me, I think.” He kicks Bucky’s foot under the table. “If you can stand to be around me that much.” 

“Lucky for you, I have a fondness for hopeless cases. I’ve got another couple of days of shooting, but after that I’ll have free time. Stark’s got a court, doesn’t he?” 

“Yeah. I’ll check with him and see if we can use it. You think we could start Monday? Or do you want to push it out a little further?” 

“Monday would be good for lessons. If you’re not busy tonight, you could come over and we could work on some basics. Stances, swings, that sort of thing.” 

“I’ll double check with Peggy, obviously, if there’s anything with Alice, but I think our calendar is pretty clear.” 

“Feel free to bring the ladies along.” He takes a bite of his sandwich and Steve belatedly gets around to unwrapping his. They eat in comfortable silence, Bucky occasionally reaching across the table to snag some of Steve’s potato chips. After slapping his hand a couple of times doesn’t work to deter him, Steve gives in and pushes his plate closer. “It’s no fun if you just surrender them.” 

“You’re eventually going to be throwing tennis balls at my face. I want to stay on your good side.” 

Bucky smiles, warm and wicked. “Oh, now you’ve given me an idea or two.” 

“I’m doomed.” 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to stay away from your baby blues and pearly whites. Your nose though… That may be a lost cause given how huge that schnozz is. I mean, you’re no Jimmy Durante, but you’re close to giving him a run for his money.” 

“Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends.” 

“And then you remember how great I am?” 

“Sure. Something like that.” Steve’s smile feels like it takes up his whole face, and it feels like a weight taken off his shoulders to be bantering with Bucky like they used to. He knows he’s likely getting too comfortable too quickly, but he can’t help falling into their familiar rhythm. By the time they finish eating and walk back to Steve’s car, he feels like his whole chest is filled with dangerous warmth. “What time will you be home, do you think? What time should I come over?” 

“Seven?” 

“You want me to get there earlier and make dinner?” 

Bucky stares at him for a long moment, and Steve can’t quite read his expression, though Bucky’s pupils seem dilated slightly. “No,” He finally says, his voice slightly hoarse. “No thanks. I’ll see you at seven.” 

** 

Steve knocks on the door, opening it when Bucky shouts for him to come in. He walks out of the kitchen with two beers in one hand and a tennis racquet in the other. He’s wearing dark blue shorts and a thin white T-shirt, which explains why he’s looking at Steve’s outfit like Steve’s crazy. 

“You’re wearing the same thing you were wearing earlier.” 

“Uh. Yeah.” Steve looks down at his tan slacks and mint green dress shirt. “I guess I didn’t think.” 

“I guess you didn’t.” He nods toward the stairs. “Come on. Let’s see if we can find something that fits you.” 

“I can just run home and change.” 

“It’s fine. I’m sure I’ve got… well, maybe something that will work. Bathing suit maybe.” Bucky disappears into his bedroom and Steve hovers at the doorway for a moment before taking a deep breath and going inside. It hasn’t changed at all, looks like Steve could have just left this morning. It takes him a moment to catch his breath, and it must come out in a gasp or something, because Bucky looks over at him, eyes concerned. “You okay?” 

“Yeah. Fine. Yeah.” 

“Okay.” Bucky shakes his head and turns to his dresser, bending slightly to go digging through the drawers. That, in and of itself, is a different kind of torture as Bucky’s shorts pull tight over his ass and thighs, as his position exposes a band of skin between the hem of his shirt and the top of his shorts. Steve shifts where he’s standing and turns his gaze toward the window. “Here. I think this’ll work.” 

Steve catches the pair of shorts that Bucky throws on instinct, looking at Bucky and then down into his hand. It’s a pair of swim shorts with red, white, and blue stripes. “Did you buy these?” 

“Do they look like something I’d buy?” 

“Maybe against your will.” 

“They were a gag gift. White elephant thing at Christmas. I think they’ll fit you okay.” He picks up the beers and the racquet from where he’d set them on the dresser, swinging the racquet in a circle with a twirl of his wrist. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.” 

Steve watches Bucky leave the room, trying to stifle the desperate need to follow him and get the hell out of the bedroom. Instead the door shuts behind Bucky and Steve starts to undress. He unbuttons his shirt, then realizes he doesn’t have another to put on, so he leaves it open and undoes his belt instead. He closes his eyes and bites his lower lip as he sinks down onto the bed to take off his shoes and socks before he slips out of his slacks. Pulling on the swim trunks, he folds his pants and drapes them on the edge of the bed, shoes and socks lined up on the floor beneath them. There’s a pair of socks stuffed into some tennis shoes just outside of the bedroom door. Steve picks them up and carries them down the stairs with him. 

“Are these mine?” 

“Yeah. You left them, and I never got around to returning them. Sorry.” 

There’s a full beer on the coffee table, and Bucky’s is over half-empty in his hand. Steve sits down to put on his shoes, tying them off before picking up the beer and taking a deep swallow. “Worked out okay, I guess.” 

“Okay. Come on. Let’s teach you the basics.” They go out into the back yard. The cover’s off the pool and Bucky’s turned on the lights so they shine from beneath the water. There are small lamp posts with hanging lanterns that are lit up, shining in the dying light so everything looks warm and inviting. Bucky holds out the racquet to Steve then stops, tilting his head. “Yeah, no. Shirt off.” 

“I don’t have another shirt.” 

“I get that. I didn't give you one, because I don’t want you stretching out one of mine, but I’ve seen you naked. I can handle you shirtless.” 

“Well, your control when you saw me naked wasn’t always great. Ow!” Steve tries to jump out of the way of the racquet, but Bucky still lands a solid swat on his ass. “Yeah, yeah. Shirt off.” He takes off his dress shirt and drapes it onto one of the lounge chairs. “They’re the blue ones.” 

“What?” 

“At the Oscar party. They weren’t the blue ones.” 

“These aren’t exactly made for people in formal attire. I just had them put away.” His brow furrows. “Did it bother you or something?” 

“I just thought… Well, you were so adamant that we have them. And then they weren’t here. I don’t know. I guess I just thought you’d gotten rid of them when I left or something.” 

“The chairs are safe. Now quit stalling.” 

Steve takes the racquet from Bucky and swings it. “Now what?” 

“Now we get to work.” Bucky grabs Steve by the wrist and pulls him over, moving behind him so his chest is pressed against Steve’s back. Steve swallows hard and his grip tightens on the racquet handle. Bucky shakes Steve’s arm. “Relax.” 

“What?” 

“You’re playing with it, not choking it. Relax your wrist.” 

Steve tries, but Bucky has to admonish him a couple more times before he actually manages to relax. Bucky stays pressed against him, walking him through forehand and backhand strokes and volleys, smashes and serves. He moves Steve like a marionette, and it’s hard for Steve to keep his eyes open, to not get lost in the feel of Bucky’s body moving against his. 

He’s not sure how long they’ve been practicing, but each swing feels more natural by the time Bucky stops and releases Steve’s arm. They stand there, both of them breathing a little raggedly. Steve can feel every rise and fall of Bucky’s chest, feel the brush of Bucky’s exhale against his neck. He shivers and shifts, even though all it does is make the fabric of the swim trunks brush against Steve’s erection. He tries to will it away, but the fact that he and Bucky are pressed against each other and have been for some time means his body has no intention of listening to him. 

“Okay. So.” Bucky’s hand settles on Steve’s hips and he squeezes lightly before stepping away. Steve bites his lip hard to keep from making a noise at the loss of his touch. “Pretty good. Next time we’ll have balls involved.” 

Steve chokes and Bucky turns red. “Right. I know what you mean.” Steve blushes as well, even more when he turns and his gaze drops down. He can see Bucky’s arousal pressing against his shorts and it’s comforting to know Steve’s not the only one. It doesn’t change anything or make it less awkward, but it’s nice to know that Bucky’s still affected by him. “So Monday then? At Howard’s? I’ll find out from him and we can arrange to meet there?” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Just let me know.” 

Steve hands Bucky the racquet then grabs his shirt, tugging it on. He can feel Bucky watching him, and Steve’s skin is prickling with heat. “I’m going to go change then. Get out of your hair.” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

Steve grabs his beer bottle and drains the rest of it, dropping the bottle in the kitchen garbage before making his way upstairs. Bucky’s actually at the bedroom door and Steve stops at the top of the stairwell. “Buck?” 

Bucky takes three quick strides and pushes Steve against the wall. His mouth finds Steve’s before either of them can make a sound. There’s no preamble of soft, easy kissing. Instead Bucky’s tongue slips past Steve’s parted lips immediately and flicks inside, owning Steve with the hard press of his lips. Steve doesn’t even think, just slides his hands to Bucky’s ass and lifts him, moving away from the wall so Bucky can wrap his legs around him. Bucky groans and grinds down, so Steve has to pause as his legs tremble before he can make his way to the bedroom. 

With one knee on the edge of the mattress, he leans forward to deposit Bucky on the bed. Bucky’s legs are still wrapped tight around Steve’s waist, and Steve has to tug his shirt free from beneath them so he can shrug it off his shoulders. Bucky rakes his fingers from Steve’s shoulders to his waistband, short nails scraping over Steve’s nipples on the way down. Steve’s hips roll forward and he moans, losing the sound in another kiss. 

He reaches back to free himself from Bucky’s legs, pushing them away so Bucky’s left spread-eagled on the bed. Something hot and possessive curls up Steve’s spine, and he holds Bucky’s eyes as he undoes the fly of Bucky’s shorts before stripping them and Bucky’s underwear off of him. Bucky makes a low, desperate sound as his cock comes free. He reaches out and grabs Steve’s hips tightly. “Please.” 

Steve nods and strips the rest of his clothes off despite Bucky's clinging. When he’s finally naked he grabs both of Bucky’s wrists and holds them down against the mattress. Bucky’s staring up at him with wide, dark eyes. He licks his lips, wet and swollen from their kisses, then swallows hard. Steve doesn’t move, doesn’t break the silence, doesn’t break Bucky’s gaze. The air feels heavy on his skin, hot against the sweat that’s starting to pool in the small of his back. 

“Please.” This time it’s a whisper, a plea. “Please, Steve.” 

Steve groans roughly and grabs at Bucky’s shirt, practically tearing it off of him. Bucky falls back on the bed once he’s rid of it, and Steve moves in. He kisses his way along the sharp line of Bucky’s jaw, the hollow beneath his ear, the curve of his throat before making his way back up. He bites Bucky’s earlobe then sucks on it before moving down again, leaving a trail of faint marks on Bucky’s skin. 

Bucky’s nails dig into Steve’s flanks as Steve focuses on the tendon of Bucky’s neck to his shoulder, over his clavicle. His head is thrown back, so his entire body is open and offered up to Steve. 

Steve can’t help but groan again, his hands sliding up and down Bucky’s chest and sides. He’s careful to use enough pressure to keep from tickling him. Bucky arches into the touch, and Steve can’t help his gaze falling to the hard pink buds of Bucky’s nipples. His eyes dart up to Bucky’s, but Bucky’s are closed, his lips parted, his tongue darting out again and again to wet them. 

Exhaling shakily, Steve bends his head and catches one of the nipples between his teeth. Bucky keens, arching up again, his body taut, his cock pressed against Steve’s stomach. Steve grabs Bucky’s hips hard to keep himself from wrapping his hand around Bucky’s cock, not wanting to give into the temptation yet. Bucky gasps and jerks, his cock twitching, leaving a trail of precome on Steve’s skin. 

Steve scrapes his teeth along the rigid skin of Bucky’s nipple then sucks on it. He releases one hip and slides his hand upward, thumb sliding along just out of reach of Bucky’s cock. Bucky whines, but it turns into something hotter and deeper as Steve captures his other nipple between two fingers and pinches, twists. 

Bucky jerks again, and then his legs wrap around Steve once more, heels digging into the flesh of Steve’s ass as he tries to pull him closer. Steve resists, digging his knees into the mattress and focusing on Bucky’s nipples. He switches sides, leaving one wet and swollen as he moves to the other, his other hand releasing his hip so he can play with the tender, damp skin. 

Bucky’s making soft, desperate noises and he grabs Steve’s hair in both hands, tugging at it. Steve laughs against Bucky’s chest then starts kissing his way down her sternum, his abs. He licks the rim of Bucky’s navel, flicking the edge of it with his tongue before he continues his trail of kisses along the line of hair that leads down to Bucky’s dick. 

“Oh god. Oh yes. Oh please.” Bucky’s hips come off the bed, his heels digging even harder into Steve’s ass. “Steve.” 

Steve slides the flat of his tongue over the head of Bucky’s cock, coating it with Bucky’s precome before sucking it back into his mouth. Bucky whimpers and writhes beneath him, crying out when Steve sucks at the frenulum for a moment before wrapping his lips around Bucky’s cock. Steve can’t help moaning, the familiar weight and heat of Bucky on his tongue like a fire burning inside of him. He swallows around him then takes him deeper. He keeps up steady pressure and suction until Bucky’s gasping breathlessly. 

When he thinks Bucky’s on the brink of his orgasm, Steve pulls back, licking the head as he releases Bucky. Bucky whines and rasps Steve’s name, but Steve ignores him, nuzzling and licking Bucky’s shaft, sucking velvety skin into his mouth. Precome trickles down from the head, meeting Steve’s lips and tongue. He works his way down, nosing Bucky’s cock out of the way so he can take Bucky’s sac into his mouth, rolling Bucky’s heavy balls on his tongue before pulling back and letting his teeth scrape at the skin. 

Bucky’s fists slam into the bed as his hips jerk. He’s making constant noises, babbling gibberish. Steve sucks his balls back into his mouth again, one then the other, holding them tight between his palate and his tongue until Bucky fists his hands in Steve’s hair again and yanks at it. Steve pulls off with a throaty chuckle, not giving Bucky any time to relax or recuperate before he takes his cock deep again. 

Steve sucks him hard and tight, and Bucky’s chest heaves with a sob that turns into a low keening whine. Steve feels Bucky’s muscles tense, his thighs going taut, so he pulls off, mouth hovering just over Bucky’s cock, panting roughly. Bucky sobs again as Steve moves up to kiss him. The kiss is desperate, Bucky getting his hands on Steve and trying to pull him closer. He sucks on Steve’s tongue and thrusts up against him, cock sliding against Steve’s abs. 

Steve reaches blindly for Bucky’s bedside drawer and fumbles for the tub of Vaseline. He finally gets his hands on it and tries to pull back, but Bucky won’t break the kiss. Rather than fight him, Steve struggles to get the tub open and slides two fingers through the jelly. He gets his hand between them, between Bucky’s legs and presses his fingers to the blood-warm, puckered skin of Bucky’s hole. 

Bucky huffs a shuddering series of breaths as Steve teases the opening, rubbing him until the skin is slippery slick before he starts to press against the muscle, slow strokes that slowly push past the tightness, penetrating the ring of muscle and sliding inside Bucky’s heat. Steve’s short of breath as he watches Bucky’s face, sees the hint of pain and pressure before his expression gives way to relief and need. Steve can’t look away, mesmerized by the soft, round ‘o’ of Bucky’s mouth, by his lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks. 

When Bucky seems relaxed enough around Steve’s finger, Steve pulls out and slicks two up again, working just as slow to push both of them in. Bucky spreads his legs wider, moaning hoarsely as Steve works his way in to the second knuckle then deeper. He rubs at the sensitive walls, curving his fingers then straightening them, spreading them then bringing them back together. Bucky’s body glistens with sweat, his hair damp and clinging to his skin. His cock is leaking steadily, precome building to a creamy drop and then sliding from the slit to the head to a mess on Bucky’s stomach. 

“You’re so tight,” Steve can barely breathe, his voice barely even a whisper. “Fuck, how are you so tight?” 

“You,” Bucky manages to gasp. “Only you.” 

“Oh,” Steve moans. His fingers curl and brush Bucky’s prostate and Bucky’s whole body spasms, continuing to jerk as Steve rubs the spot steadily. Bucky sobs again, and Steve can see the glimmer of tears as they slide from the corner of Bucky’s eyes to his hairline. Steve finally can’t hold himself back, can’t wait any longer. He frees his fingers and moves up further between Bucky’s legs. Bucky is spread open, legs parted, probably to the edge of pain. Steve slicks up his fingers and grasps his cock, slicking it up before he guides it to Bucky's hole and presses in slowly. He watches as he disappears inside Bucky’s body, sinks into him like he’s finally come home. 

He means to go slow. He means to take his time. But once he’s sheathed in Bucky’s heat, he can’t hold back. He gets his arms under Bucky’s knees and pushes them back against his chest, holding him there as he starts thrusting. Bucky grabs Steve’s shoulders and holds them as he stares up at Steve. His mouth is open, his breath short, as he looks down at his cock caught between their bodies. 

The room is filled with ragged breathing, with the slide and slap of flesh as Steve thrusts harder, tries to get deeper. Groaning in frustration, he releases Bucky’s legs, slides his arms behind Bucky’s back and lifts him so he straddles Steve’s thighs, sinking down onto him. They both groan then as Steve slides in deeper and Bucky wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders, burying his face against Steve’s throat, sucking sweat off his skin. Steve bows his head as well, resting it on Bucky’s shoulder as they move together. 

Bucky’s breath pitches higher, and he starts whimpering against Steve’s neck. Steve reaches between them, wrapping his hand around Bucky’s cock. It’s hot and swollen and sticky-slick with precome. Bucky hisses, ‘yes’, drawing the word out as he straightens and lets his head drop back, grinding down against Steve as he comes in Steve’s fist. 

Steve keeps stroking him until Bucky is shuddering and tense. When he releases him Bucky sobs again and presses his face back against Steve’s throat. Steve grabs Bucky’s hips, smearing come against his skin as he presses bruises into Bucky with his fingertips, holding him immobile so Steve can fuck up into him. He feels like a man possessed, finally granted exorcism as the muscles of his thighs clench and he buries himself to the hilt inside Bucky and comes. 

They both still, frozen for a moment in space and silence, and then Steve carefully lowers Bucky back to the bed. He starts to pull out, but Bucky’s legs wrap around him again and hold him there. He shakes his head at Steve, pulling him down into a tight hug, seeking out his mouth for another kiss, a series of them all slow, lazy, and warm. 

Finally Steve pulls back enough that he can look Bucky in the eye. He strokes his thumb over Bucky’s cheekbone as he looks down at him. “You okay?” 

Bucky nods. “Not – “ He cuts off then clears his throat. His voice is still hoarse. “Not part of the tennis lesson.” 

“Figured. I mean, I don’t know how to play tennis and I knew how to do that.” Steve laughs softly then leans in and kisses Bucky again. After a moment, Bucky moves his head. 

“You should probably get going.” 

Steve’s brow furrows. “What?” 

“You can’t stay here.” Bucky shifts enough that Steve slips out, the mess of Steve’s orgasm sliding out after him. 

“I don’t… Uh.” 

“Neither of us planned for that. And I doubt it’s the best thing for us. You’re still married to Peggy and will be for a while. We’re friends, remember.” 

“We are, I just…” 

“It had just been a long time, Steve.” 

“Oh. Oh.” Steve nods and moves away, trying not to scramble back in mortification. He keeps his eyes on the floor so he can’t see Bucky as he hurriedly gathers his clothes and pulls them on. He can feel his body flushed with shame, and as soon as he’s got his clothes on, he hurries out of the room, carrying his shoes in one hand and buttoning his shirt with the other. His throat feels rough with salty tears that he keeps trying to swallow down. He shoves his feet into his shoes and flees the house, shirt untucked and pants still undone. 

** 

Steve has Sam talk to Howard and Dugan to arrange to use the tennis court at Howard’s house. He hasn’t said anything to Peggy or Sam about the night with Bucky, and has no intention of doing so, but he does drag Peggy and Alice along with him to Howard’s. Peggy doesn’t ask questions, and Steve’s relieved. She sits at one of the tables Howard has alongside the court, both her and Alice in sunhats even under the table umbrella. 

Bucky shows up about twenty minutes after them and immediately goes to Peggy and Alice. Steve’s been using the time to practice his swings and he focuses hard on the ball as he tosses it up and tries to serve. He hits it squarely and it slams into the wood-slatted chain link fence that surrounds the courts. Bucky looks up and waves at Steve. Steve nods back and goes to retrieve the ball. When he brings it back, Bucky’s waiting on the opposite side of the net. 

They jump right into a game, Bucky discussing Steve’s swings, form, and abilities as they work through it. Steve manages to hit the ball most of the time, and they even have a decent volley until Bucky barely taps the ball over the net and Steve can’t make it there in time. Peggy calls out encouragement along with teasing Steve. 

It takes a while, but Steve eventually relaxes, though his competitive nature kicks in and his strokes get bolder and more confident. 

It’s completely by accident that one of his serves hits Bucky high in the thigh, dangerously close to his groin. 

“Jesus, Steve!” 

“I’m sorry! It was an accident!” 

“Christ.” Bucky starts walking back and forth across his half of the court, rubbing at the spot that’s sure to bruise. 

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Steve asks as he walks closer to the net. 

“Fine. I’m fine.” He waves Steve off. “Just give me a minute.” 

“I really am sorry.” 

“It’s _fine_ , Steve.” He walks away from Steve, so Steve goes over to sit next to Peggy. 

She leans against him, wrinkling her nose. “You need a shower.” 

“Well, he’s running my ass off out there.” 

“You know, you could probably go and offer to kiss it to make it better.” 

“Peggy!” Steve can feel a blush creep up his cheeks. “He doesn’t want that.” 

“Not sure I believe that in the slightest.” 

“Trust me.” Steve sighs. “I should probably get you and Alice home anyway. It’s getting dark and I’d really rather avoid seeing Howard if I can.” 

“Running away is atypical of you.” 

“Well, I'm pretty sure he doesn’t want me chasing him.” 

“Rather telling that you knew I was talking about Bucky and not Howard, don’t you think?” 

“No. You understand wanting to run away from Howard.” 

Peggy laughs and hands Alice to Steve as she starts to gather their things. She’s pulling on her sweater when Bucky comes over. He raises an eyebrow. “Lesson’s over, huh?” 

“I figured I’d done enough damage.” Steve shrugs, though he knows he doesn’t quite feign disinterest. “Did you want to do this again?” 

“That depends on how confident you feel. I doubt either of us are particularly keen on being humiliated.” He grins. “Though if you nail our opponents like that, we might just win by default.” 

“I really am sorry.” 

This time Bucky shrugs. “Admittedly it’s not the type of bruises I’m used to you leaving.” 

Steve’s blush comes roaring back, making the tips of his ears burn. “Bucky!” 

Peggy covers up her laugh as she gives the diaper bag to Steve and takes Alice from him. “Don’t worry, I’ve long since stopped listening to you two when you’re together. I’ll be at the car.” 

She walks off, and Steve’s left standing there, staring at Bucky. Bucky raises an eyebrow and Steve steps forward on instinct, his hand going to where the tennis ball hit Bucky. He rubs his thumb over the spot, pressing lightly. Bucky sucks in a breath and stands there frozen for a moment before taking a step back. “You free tomorrow?” he asks. 

“Yeah. Same time?” 

“Works for me. Night, Steve.” 

Steve nods then turns, heading toward the car. “Night.” 

** 

The two days go more smoothly, each better than the last, but Steve still brings Peggy and Alice along as a buffer. Bucky doesn’t say anything about it, but he does agree to join them for dinner both nights at Peggy’s request. The first night, Bucky showers in the guest bathroom, but the second Sam’s in there working on a problem, so after Steve’s finished with his shower, Bucky uses the bathroom in Steve’s garage apartment. He comes into the house in the process of buttoning up one of Steve’s short-sleeved shirts. 

“I spilled coffee on my shirt. Hope it’s okay that I borrowed one." 

“Yeah. Sure.” Steve swallows hard. The shirt hangs on Bucky, his shoulders not quite as broad as Steve’s. “It’s fine.” 

Steve’s not his normal self at dinner, quieter than usual. He keeps glancing at Bucky, at Bucky in his shirt, and it’s distracting. 

“Sam and I talked to Howard today.” 

Steve’s shaken from his fixation on Bucky and he looks at Peggy. “Oh?” 

“We spent some time discussing the future. My future.” 

Steve looks over at Sam who is smiling at Peggy like she’s the only person in the universe. Before Steve can respond, Bucky speaks. 

“I didn’t think your contact was up. Didn’t you and Steve both sign with Stark at the same time?” 

“We did, yes. But Howard had a proposition for me.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks at Sam, a horrified expression on his face, though it’s clearly just for effect. “You let Howard – Howard Stark – proposition your wife?” 

“Please. Peggy would eviscerate him before he could even get a sentence out,” Sam says with a smirk, his voice laced with pride. 

“Not that sort of proposition, luckily for Howard.” Peggy takes a sip of her wine. “He’s buying a radio station and has plans for a number of serials. Since I’m going to be spending a lot of time at home with Alice, as well as still breastfeeding, radio fits better into our schedule..” 

“Howard doesn’t know you’re breastfeeding though,” Steve says, his voice rising at the end so it’s more of a question. 

“No, but she still needs to be fed, and I’ve made it clear I didn’t adopt a child so a nanny could raise it.” She shrugs one shoulder. “Plus he needs a name to use as a hook when he takes on radio. And my grand post-new motherhood comeback should fit the bill. Besides, this works better if Sam and I decide to have more.” 

“More?” Bucky’s voice cracks. “I thought you only needed Steve for a couple of years.” 

“Well, Steve wouldn’t be necessary at that point. One, I’d be out of the spotlight, and two, I could easily say I adopted from Alice’s birth mother again.” 

“Oh. That makes sense.” When Steve looks at him, Bucky’s face is flushed and he looks embarrassed. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. You’re looking out for your friend. And given that Steve isn’t always the best at looking out for himself and his own interests. Well.” 

“Hey! I’m right here.” Steve leans over and pokes Peggy lightly in her upper arm. “Besides, looking out for my best interests is literally your husband’s job, and I don’t think Bucky wants to take that on.” 

“He’s welcome to it if he wants,” Sam says with a grin. “You’re a lot of trouble. Maybe more than you’re worth.” 

“Wow. Thanks, Sam.” Bucky’s frowning and Steve kicks his foot lightly. “Pretty sure he’s just picking on me. Even if he’s not, he wouldn’t dump being responsible for me off onto you. He wouldn’t do that to someone he actually likes.” 

“Exactly. I mean, I wouldn’t wish this lunk on my worst enemy, much less a good friend.” 

Something about Bucky’s expression makes Steve shake his head slightly in Sam’s direction. Peggy picks up on it as well and changes the subject to Alice’s escapades for the day. As if she knows they’re talking about her, she wakes up and cries out. Bucky offers to go get her, and none of them protest, aware that he apparently needs a bit of time alone. As soon as he’s gone from the kitchen, Steve doesn’t know what else to do besides shrug at both Sam and Peggy. 

“He’s worried about you,” Peggy informs them both. “He misses you.” 

“We’re not like that,” Steve reminds her. 

“Yes, but it’s clear you both want to be.” 

“No.” Steve doesn’t mean to sound rude, but he knows it comes out that way. “He wants a body. I want more.” That ends the conversation just in time as Bucky walks in with Alice. Steve makes the mistake of looking at him, still dressed in Steve’s shirt, only now with the warm weight of Alice in his arms. Bucky’s head is bent and he’s talking to her softly, and Steve’s heart twists painfully. He doesn’t know if he makes a sound or if Bucky just happens to look up at him, but Steve looks hurriedly away, focusing on his plate. 

Sam diverts attention from Steve by asking Bucky about what working with Tracy is like, and he talks about _Boys Town_ , making them all laugh with anecdotes from the set. Even Alice laughs, drooling on Bucky through her little gurgles and giggles. It makes the rest of the dinner less fraught with tension, and they all seem to relax. 

After dinner, Steve volunteers to do the dishes, and Bucky offers to help. Neither Peggy or Sam refuse, so Bucky hands Alice back over so he can start clearing the table. He grabs a towel as Steve runs the dish water as Bucky brings things over, starting washing before he’s done. He hands the rinsed dishes to Bucky for drying, and they work together, familiar and comfortable. 

“You have to stand up for yourself.” 

“What?” Steve looks up from the pan he’s washing. 

“I know they’re like family to you, but you can’t let them take advantage of you.” 

“What are you talking about? No one’s taking advantage of me.” 

“They’re planning their future without considering you.” 

“No. They’re planning their future for _after_ me. Everything Peggy was talking about was for their long term. She even reassured us that there was an end date on our marriage.” He stops washing and turns to face Bucky. “I appreciate that you’re concerned for me, but I promise, they really are including me when they’re making their plans.” 

“How? Your marriage ends and then what?” 

“That’s a good year away, Buck. I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ll want or what I’ll be doing in a year. Just look at where I was a year ago. I’m nowhere near there now.” 

“Because you _left_.” 

“Because I had to.” 

“You know what? I’m not having this argument with you. Not now. Not again. You did what you thought you had to do, and nothing is going to change that.” 

“I did the right thing. The only thing.” Steve turns back to the pan. “I don’t want to fight with you. We used to be friends. I want that again. I know we’re not getting back what we had. You made it clear the other night that you didn’t want it back. But I’d like to go back before we… Before that.” 

“Pretend we don’t know every inch of each other.” 

“If that’s what it takes for us to be friends? Yes.” He shrugs and shakes his head, everything heavy and sad. “Hopefully we can get that back, since it seems clear that we’re not getting anything else.” 

He doesn’t say anything and, after the dishes are done, Bucky doesn’t stay long. He says a general goodbye to all of them, and doesn’t even look at Steve when he leaves. Steve rubs his forehead after the door closes. 

“I’m going to bed.” 

“Steve – “ 

“No. Don’t. Please. Let it lie." 

** 

After a long absence of sightings, Steve Rogers and James Barnes have been spotted hanging out together on the MGM lot. Rumors are swirling that the two are looking at a project together, something the two best buddies haven't even hinted at before - friends or rivals on the screen, we're looking forward to seeing what these two might bring to the screen. 


	5. 1939

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Co-creator odetteandodile

**Stark Contract: -6**

Steve doesn’t see Bucky for several weeks after the dinner with Sam and Peggy, not even for tennis. The first time he sees him is the table read-through of the Sturges script. He looks disgustingly good, dressed down but impeccable. One of the aides brings him coffee and fawns over him, and Bucky’s smile hits Steve low and full of heat. He tries not to think about how much he misses having it directed at him.

Though he’d rather see it aimed elsewhere than think about the last time he saw it and the way that ended. 

He focuses back on his script except to give his own smile when the aide delivers coffee to him. When he looks over Bucky’s watching him with a look on his face that Steve can’t read. He gives him a weak smile then turns his attention to Sturges as they start the read through. They make it through the script twice before Sturges is happy and the AD passes out the shooting schedule.

He and Bucky seem to be shooting together at least every other day, since the middle of the film is mostly them bantering, arguing, and annoying each other. The first ten days are on location at some Hollywood mansion the studio is renting. Steve’s not familiar with the place by sight or by name, but the studio will send a car, so he’s not particularly worried about it. He heads toward the door, walking with Edward Horton and Beulah Bondi when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

Steve glances back where Bucky’s standing just a couple of feet away. He looks at his other co-stars and excuses himself, stopping and turning around. “Run a few errands before all the craziness of filming kicks in. You?” 

Peter Hall dodges around them, slapping each of them on the back as he goes. “See you gents tomorrow.”

"Bye, dad,” Steve laughs, before turning back to Bucky.

“I was going to do the same. Get some lunch. We could maybe pool our time and resources then play a match or two?” He shrugs as if it’s not a big deal. “If you’re interested.”

Steve hates how much his chest seems to swell with the question. “Where’d you have in mind?”

“Thought we could hit up one of the diners. I’m craving a burger, fries, and a milkshake. But I’m flexible if you’d rather go elsewhere.”

“No. No. That sounds great. My car or yours?”

“I bought a convertible a couple months ago. Haven’t really taken it out for a spin. We could go back home and get it.”

His breath catches at ‘home’. “A convertible, huh? You’re like a regular Hollywood star now.”

“Oh, yeah. Should be on the walk of fame next week or two.” They start walking to the door, falling easily into step. “How’s the family?”

“Good. Way too much Howard now that he and Pegs are in talks, but other than that.” He shrugs. “Alice is growing way too fast. I guess that’s par for the course though.”

“I’ve heard that. I think every time I see her she’s doubled in size.”

“That’s kind of a frightening image, honestly.” Steve smiles and Bucky does so in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “And if that’s going to be the case, I’m not sure we should ever let you see her again.”

“Oh, come on. Not see her Uncle Bucky? Would you do that to your child, Steve?” He bumps Steve’s arm with his. “I’ll race you home.”

“I’m not racing you." 

“Okay, Rogers. If you’re chicken.” Bucky turns and walks backward, shit-eating grin on his face, because he knows exactly how to wind Steve up. “I mean, I know how much you hate losing.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Am I? Or are you just afraid of a little healthy competition?”

“All right, all right. You want a race, Barnes? I’ll give you a run for your money.”

“Oh, we’re betting now? Something more than bragging rights?” He lets Steve catch up to him then turns around, bumping into him with every other step. “What’s the wager?”

“Loser buys lunch.”

“Boring, but okay. Though that’s probably pretty wild and crazy for an old, married man.”

Steve shoves Bucky toward his car. “Let’s go, pretty boy. And watch who you’re calling old. Know for a fact you’re almost a year and a half older than me.”

“Whatever, whatever.” They get to the parking lot, and they’re parked next to each other. Bucky gives Steve a wide grin as he gets in his car, turning it on and backing out before Steve’s barely gotten his door open.

“Cheater!” Bucky waves out his window, possibly flipping Steve off. Laughing, Steve gets in his car and follows Bucky. Bucky’s idling just outside the studio gates, and Steve pulls up next to him. “Saw the error of your ways, huh?”

“Nah, just knew you’d piss and moan if you thought I didn’t win fair and square. So, on three?”

“Just hit the gas,” Steve tells him, doing so himself.

Bucky reacts immediately, on Steve’s tail as they wind through the streets, ignoring honks and shouts. Steve turns onto some back roads, knowing it will take longer, but likely be safer, and Bucky follows him there as well. They both pull up to the house at the same time, but Steve parks at the curb and is out before Bucky, since he had to swing into the driveway.

“Jeez, Buck. Guess you’re buying lunch.”

“Just admit that you couldn’t handle the turn into the driveway. Nothing to be ashamed of.” Bucky shuts his car door closed then goes to the garage door, unlocking it and pulling it up and open. There’s a dark blue convertible inside, the paint and bumper shining as the sunlight hits it.

“Wow. That’s quite a looker you’ve got there.”

“Thirty-seven Cord 812 Phaeton. Drives like a dream.” Bucky strokes his hand over the fender. “Needed a beautiful girl in my life, and this one’s less trouble than the kind with two legs.”

“I’m sure Hedy appreciates that.”

“Hey, at least dames aren’t nearly as much trouble as guys are.” He grins at Steve. “Last guy I dated was a handful.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, I know. I’ve had a handful of him myself from time to time.”

Bucky flushes red. “Jesus, Steve.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “You set yourself up for that one, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get in the car.” He tosses the keys at Steve, and he catches them on reflex. “I know you’re not all that keen on women, but I thought you might like to take her for a spin anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Trust you with a lot more than my car, Steve.” Bucky doesn’t look at Steve, but there’s something in his voice, something deep and serious. Steve keeps his gaze on Bucky, not wanting to look away, not sure if he even could. “So drive if you’re going to.”

“All right.” Steve walks past Bucky, fingers brushing together as he goes. Bucky crooks his slightly so their hands catch, hooked between them for a moment before Bucky pulls away and goes toward the passenger side. Steve starts the car and pulls out of the garage, idling as Bucky closes the door then climbs into the car. “So, where are we headed?”

“You’re an actor, so I’m going to assume you can follow directions. Turn left at the end of the driveway. I’ll tell you where to go.”

“Ha. That’s a change from our usual dynamic.”

“What do you mean? I tell you to go to hell all the time.”

Steve just laughs and starts driving.

**

They end up in Santa Monica, both of them with tangled hair from the wind, both warm from the sun. Steve’s sure his nose, if not his whole face, is tinged red with the hint of a sunburn, and make-up is going to hate him, especially if he has marks from his sunglasses surrounding his eyes. They eat in a local diner that looks like it was built well before the 1920s. The seats are red naugahyde with faint hints of threatening cracks. As promised, Bucky orders a burger, fries, and a milkshake. Steve orders the same, though he substitutes onion rings for the fries. They talk about the movie and about inconsequential things, occasionally edging toward memories of living together, though it seems like they’re both doing their best to avoid the subject. 

Bucky’s relaxed on his seat, legs stretched out, trapping one of Steve’s between them. He moves his feet from time to time, brushing Steve’s calf with the tips of his shoes. Steve looks down at his plate each time, suddenly glad of the slight sunburn, hopeful it hides his blush. Bucky knows him well though, so it probably doesn’t. After they eat and pay, Bucky glances over at Steve before they get to the car.

“You have any pressing business?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Dunno. Thought we could walk down by the pier. Heard the bridge and entry gate are finished and the carousel’s open still.” He shrugs like it’s a nonchalant request, like this isn’t turning into something more like a date. Steve takes a breath and shrugs as well.

“Sure. Haven’t been there since twenty-nine before the crash.”

“Great.” He holds out his hand for the keys. “My turn.” 

“But you always get to drive it,” Steve adds a hint of a whine to his voice.

“Maybe if you’re nice I’ll let you drive us home." 

“I’ll have you know, I am always nice.”

Bucky snorts but doesn’t say anything. Steve climbs in the car, and he can’t quite stop smiling. Bucky glances over at him, and his mouth twitches, threatening a grin. Finally he shakes his head and starts the car so they can pull out into traffic. 

It’s the middle of the day, so the drive isn’t bad and they’re actually able to snag nearby parking despite all the construction trucks. They head across the bridge and through the gate. The rides are still there, though most are closed down, looking worn and abandoned. There are a few midway games open, though the hawkers are half-hearted about getting them to play. Bucky leads them straight to the carousel and pays for his ticket, bouncing slightly on his toes as he waits for Steve to do the same.

“You’re way too excited for this.”

“I like going around in circles. That’s how I learned how to put up with you." 

“Jerk.” Steve shoves him lightly and Bucky exaggerates almost falling then hurries to the carousel.

He climbs up on a black horse in full armor and Steve settles on one right behind him. Bucky looks over his shoulder and smirks, and Steve returns it before smiling widely, wickedly. It’s nice to see Bucky blush for a change. A few other people get on the ride and eventually the calliope starts up and they start moving. Bucky taps his horse’s flanks with the heels of his feet and looks back at Steve again. “You’re never gonna catch me.”

Steve pretends to spur his horse on, leaning forward as if in pursuit. They shout teasing insults and taunts at each other until the ride’s over, both of them flushed again, this time with laughter. Steve throws his arm around Bucky’s shoulders as they walk out of the building, bumping into each other, stepping over each other even though if one of them trips they’ll both go down. They eventually separate as they walk around, stopping to get some cotton candy for Steve and a caramel apple for Bucky.

When they’re heading back, Steve stops at the edge of the pier and sits down, taking off his shoes and socks, rolling his pant legs up to mid-calf. Bucky looks at him with a raised eyebrow for a moment before sighing, sitting down and doing the same. Steve hops down onto the sand and grins up at Bucky who rolls his eyes this time, but follows him down.

They walk along, sand slipping between Steve’s toes, warm and scratchy. They walk down to the water’s edge and let the waves wash in against them, the water still cold. There’s a cool breeze coming off the water as well, and the contrast to the warm sun feels good through Steve’s shirt. They walk to the south, moving under the pier itself where the sand is much cooler.

“Hey.” Bucky reaches out and catches Steve’s hand. Steve turns and Bucky pulls him closer, head tilting as Steve reaches him so he can tug Steve into a kiss.

“Oh,” Steve breathes against Bucky’s mouth, walking them backwards so they’re deeper under the pier, closer to the shore. He’s not sure how long they kiss for, hours or days, just that when Bucky finally pulls away they’re both breathless and panting like they’ve been running. Bucky rubs his thumb over Steve’s lips, and the pressure on the swollen flesh is a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Sorry.”

“It’s… It’s okay.” It’s not, because Steve can’t be a repeat one night stand for Bucky, even if, in retrospect, that’s all they’ve ever been – to Bucky at least. “Probably not the safest place though.”

“Yeah.” He swallows hard and steps back, no longer crowding Steve. “We should probably head home.”

Steve nods and turns back, heading out into the sun again. When they get back to the pier, he sits on the ledge again, dusting the dry sand off his feet before putting his socks and shoes on. Bucky follows suit, and the walk back to the car is silent. Bucky does hand Steve the keys so he can drive, but he still doesn’t say anything, and the easy camaraderie of the day is gone.

They’re halfway home when Steve reaches over, taking Bucky’s hand and squeezing it. “You okay?”

“I didn’t mean to do that.”

Steve manages a weak smile and takes his hand away. “I know. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not a question of want.”

“It’s fine. Really.” Steve stares at the road. “I know you’re only looking for someone to keep the bed warm for a while. I just know I"m not that someone.”

“That’s not – “

“Like I said, it’s fine. What I’m hoping for doesn’t exist for guys like me. I just like you too much, value our friendship too much, to just be someone you fuck sometimes.”

“You’re not just a fuck, Steve. Even that first time. You’ve never been just a fuck. You have to know that.”

“The last time I was. I don’t think even you’d deny that. And it’s fine.” He hasn’t looked at Bucky, isn’t sure he can. “I’m sure there are enough bars around here that you and I can both get what we need without needing each other.”

“That’s what you want? Meaningless sex? A random mouth or ass?” He sounds angry, and Steve does his best not to answer with his own.

“Like I said. I can’t have what I want.” He shrugs and looks at his hands. They’re wrapped so tightly around the wheel that his knuckles have gone white. “I was stupid to think I could. Stupid to think that – “ He cuts himself off, and he can feel Bucky looking at him.

“Think what?”

“That there’s anything else out there for me.” Bucky doesn’t respond, and the rest of the drive to the house is in silence. Steve parks and turns off the car. Sighing heavily, he turns his head just enough to see Bucky from the corner of his eye. “I did have a nice time today.”

Bucky’s staring out the windshield as he takes in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Me too.”

“We make good friends.”

“We’re not friends, Steve.” Steve feels like he’s been punched in the solar plexus. “I think today proves that, actually.”

“Then what are we?”

“Something different. I don’t know.” Bucky exhales another deep breath. “But I know it’s true.”

“Is that going to be a problem? On the set? At the charity event?” His voice feels thick in his throat. “I need to know now if it is.” 

“It’ll be fine." 

Steve glances over and gives Bucky a weak smile, though he doubts Bucky actually sees it. “That’s all that matters then.” He gets out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition. “See you tomorrow.”

**

“You’re holding back.” Sturges - _for heaven’s sake, Rogers, call me Preston, good lord_ \- had asked Steve and Bucky out for drinks, and now they’re sitting awkwardly in his living room, drinking martinis, and getting lectured. “You’re _antagonists_ in this. I know you’re worried about your friendship coming through, but you’re both superior actors. That’s why we hired you. So I need some heat. If you’re mad at someone else, project that onto each other. Stop pussyfooting around." 

They both look down, suitably chastised. Steve takes a sip of his drink, looking up after he swallows. “Thanks for not bringing it up in front of everyone.”

“We can all feel it. There’s a tension, boys. I’m sure your friendship will remain intact if you put a little fire into it. Surely you argued when you lived together. You’re two heathy bachelors – or were. I want to see that. I need to see it. I _will_ see it.”

“Absolutely,” Bucky says. “Won’t be a problem. We can hate each other.” Steve drains his martini, hiding his reaction to the matter-of-factness of Bucky’s words behind his glass. He’s not sure he manages when Bucky keeps going. “Practically already do, right, Steve?”

Sturges is looking between them, not at Steve directly. “You agree with that?”

“Won’t be a problem,” Steve agrees. Apparently Bucky had done some thinking and figured out what Steve is to him. Steve’s a good actor. He can fake it.

“Good. Well you have the weekend. When we come back on Monday, I want animosity.”

“You’ll get it,” Bucky assures him. He finishes his own martini. “Sorry if we’ve disappointed you.”

“Get it right and you haven’t.”

Steve leaves a short time later, citing getting home to Peggy and Alice as a reason. The truth of the matter is that he can’t keep sitting there next to Bucky, knowing that he doesn’t feel anything anymore. Or anything good. He has to pull over before he’s even halfway home because his breath is hitching, and he can’t take in enough air. It’s like the asthma attacks he used to have, a weight on his lungs and blocking them.

It takes over a half hour before he inhales and actually manages a full breath. Once he stops feeling lightheaded, he drives home and goes inside through the garage. Sam’s coming out of the kitchen with the trash, but stops on the stairs when he gets a look at Steve.

“You don’t look so good.”

Steve looks at Sam and shakes his head. “I’m still in love with him.”

“Yeah, man.” Sam’s voice is soft, the words an apology. “I know.”

Steve laughs, but the sound breaks. “What am I supposed to do with that? He told Sturges he hates me, and even if that wasn’t the case, I’ve accepted we’re never going to have a future. I mean, I knew that. But I also knew I’d never find someone I wanted to have one with.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I don’t have any answers for you.”

“I know. There’s not an answer. After the movie’s done, I’ll just have to… I don’t know. Put distance between us.” He shakes his head. “Sorry. Just thinking out loud. I didn’t mean to dump it all on you.”

“We’re friends, Steve.”

“I know.” He manages a smile for Sam then walks over to take the trash bag. “I’ve got this. Go on inside. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sam looks like he wants to argue, but he just surrenders the bag and goes back inside. Steve secures the bag in the trash can and then heads upstairs to his apartment.

He spends the night thinking, trying to decide how he wants to approach everything. He’s not going to let personal issues interfere with his performance, so he’s not concerned about that. As for Bucky, Steve will just have to keep distance between them. It shouldn’t be hard, given that Bucky seems to want the same thing. And for the rest.

Well.

Steve will get over it.

**

_Hollywood is abuzz with what Preston Sturges is brewing on the MGM lot. Rumors are the director's self-written script is a comedy of airs, heirs, and errors. Pitting real life best friends Steve Rogers and James Barnes against each other with poor Madeleine Carroll and Margaret Lockwood between them._

**

He doesn’t get much sleep, but he shows up on set before the call time, heading into make-up. Of course Bucky’s there, because Steve has the worst luck and, more likely, because the first shot of the day is of the two of them. They’re shooting the first confrontation between them where Bucky’s character accuses Steve of being a con-man. They’re both getting dusted with powder to make them look more tan and, in Steve’s case, to hide his freckles. After make-up is finished with them, they head to costuming. They haven’t said anything to each other, merely nodded a good morning. They split up into separate rooms and get dressed, Steve in tennis whites and Bucky in a business suit.

The crew is set up outside just off the tennis courts and Steve’s given a racquet as well as three tennis balls, two of which he sticks in his pocket. He heads onto the court and warms up his arm, serve after serve with one of the crew lobbing them lightly back to him.

“All right,” Sturges speaks through his megaphone to get everyone’s attention, and the set quiets. “Let’s get this rolling.” He glances from Steve to Bucky then nods. “Action.”

Steve serves the ball and plays part of a volley when Bucky stomps onto the court. Steve catches the ball as it comes back across the net, just before it hits Bucky. “I take it tennis isn’t your forte.”

“I want to talk to you about my sister.”

“You mean my fiancée?” Steve tosses the ball up and catches it then does it again. This time Bucky grabs it before Steve can. It’s not in the script, but it works.

“Not if I have anything to say about it. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I know it’s nothing good. And I’m going to find out before you get your dirty hands on her. And her money.”

“I’m in love with your sister. Not her money.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. I see the way you look at her, and it’s got nothing to do with love, and everything to do with greed.”

“Are you sure it’s your sister you’re concerned with?” Steve swings his racket under his arm and smiles at Bucky, all cockiness and condescension. “Or are you just worried that she’s going to get married first and you’ll be cut out of the inheritance?”

“How do you know about that?” Bucky has indignance down pat, his voice slightly shrill.

“I’m going to be his son-in-law. Dear old dad told me.”

“You’re not getting a penny of my father’s money.” Bucky pokes Steve hard in the chest. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Steve smiles again, sharper this time, leaning in so he’s looking at Bucky directly. “You don’t.”

“ _Cut_!” Sturges hops down off the camera and claps. “That’s what I like to see, gentlemen. Heat. Passion. Perfect. We’ll get a few close-ups and reaction shots, and then we won’t need you back for a couple of hours.”

Even with that, they’re still not done until lunch time, and Steve and Bucky have been in each other’s faces for nearly four hours. When they finally break, they each get a clap on the back before they walk off the set and head for craft services. Steve grabs two coffees and doctors one just how Bucky likes it and hands it to him. It’s pure instinct, and Steve flushes as he realizes what he’s done.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Steve takes his coffee over to his chair and sits down. He has no desire to go to the trailer on the off chance that Bucky might be there, so staying in the thick of things seems the safest course of action.

“You didn’t stick around last night.” Bucky sits in his chair nearby. Madeleine Carroll's chair is in the middle, so there’s still distance between them.

“Like I said. I needed to get home to Peggy and Alice.”

“Really? I’d think her husband would be home with them.”

Steve sighs. “Did you need something?”

“Just making conversation.” He sips his coffee, looking at Steve over the top of it.

“Why?”

“What?”

Steve turns his head and looks at him. “Why?”

“Because that’s what people do.” He frowns at Steve, and Steve wants to reach out and rub the furrow between his eyebrows. He clenches his hand into a fist to remind himself that he can’t do that. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just staying in character. We don’t like each other, remember?”

“Ah.” Bucky nods a couple of times. “This is about what I said last night. You can’t really believe that I hate you, Steve. You know me better than that.”

Steve shrugs and looks back over at the filming. Bucky scoffs and Steve sees him shake his head out of the corner of his eye. After another moment, Bucky gets up and walks away. Steve blows out a frustrated breath then gets to his feet to follow Bucky. He catches up to him, falling in step. 

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

Bucky stops and turns to face him. "Really? You don't know what to believe, but you sure seem to believe what I said right away without a problem." He sneers. "You think that I hate you?"

"I don't think you like me very much."

"What I think is that you're an asshole."

"I wasn't aware that was ever in question." Steve shrugs. Bucky is taking them toward the gardens, down the hill from the tennis courts. 

Sighing, Bucky walks through the low stone fence opening. "Sometimes, Rogers."

"Just sometimes, huh?"

Bucky shakes his head and, once they're further inside, he reaches over and hooks a finger around one of Steve's. "I need you to not talk."

"What?"

"That. That's talking. Don't do that." Steve starts to respond then stops when Bucky looks at him, eyebrow raised. Steve shuts his mouth and presses his lips together. Bucky just shakes his head again. "Better. Now, you got to pontificate last time about what can and can't happen, about what you've apparently decided I want. So you're going to keep quiet because now it's my turn."

They walk along for a while, Bucky's finger still crooked around Steve's own.

"I kicked you out that night because of how much I wanted you to stay, because I knew you couldn't. Wouldn't. Not because of whatever reason you decided it was. I never had sex with Hedy. We tried, yes. And I wanted to be able to. I wanted to hurt you and move on and not miss you. But I couldn't do it. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Because the only thing I could think about was you. All I wanted was you."

Steve swallows and he wants to respond somehow, but he isn't sure what he'd say.

"One of the most beautiful women in the world, and all I could think about was you, Steve. Your face and your body and your smile and your horrible sense of humor. How sex feels with you. How it feels to sit on the couch and do nothing with you."

Steve moves his hand so that their fingers are fully threaded together in lieu of responding. Bucky huffs a breath, almost a laugh.

"Fortunately she was relieved, because she was in love with Markey. Which meant I spent seven months missing the hell out of you. Christ, I've seen every single movie you've been in at least six times each, just so I could see you."

"Buck - "

"So don't tell me what I can or can’t do or feel about you now and in the future. I said I didn't think we could be friends, because I don't _want_ to just be friends. Not when I know how much more we can be."

"I'm still in love with you." Steve doesn't mean to say it, but it comes out anyway. "And I want to be friends and lovers and whatever else we can be. But I don't know that we can be. Not with who we are and what we do."

"Jesus."

"I know you told me not to say anything."

"Shut up." Bucky uses his free hand to shove Steve between two hedges. "You stupid idiot." He laughs. His eyes are wide and his laugh is light, soft, and slightly high-pitch like he can't believe him. "You can't say that when we're somewhere I can't take advantage of it."

The sunken feeling Steve had gotten at the sound fades as Bucky keeps talking. He smiles at him, "Yeah?"

"Jesus." Bucky shakes his head. "And we're shooting late tonight." He leans in and rests his forehead against Steve's. "Asshole."

Steve can feel the blush heating up his cheeks. He's very aware that Bucky hasn't said anything about his feelings, all the things he said are superficial and largely physical, but that feels like enough for now.

"Come over tonight."

"Like you said - late shoots. And tomorrow we've got a family photoshoot for _Life_ magazine."

Bucky sighs. "Tomorrow night?"

"I'd like that."

"And stay the night?"

"God, Bucky," Steve whispers.

"Is that a yes?"

Before Steve can answer, a voice comes down the walkway. "Mr. Barnes? Mr. Rogers?" Bucky steps back quickly as one of the assistants heads in their direction.

"Over here," Steve calls out, edging around Bucky, brushing the back of Bucky's hand with his as he goes.

"You're both needed back on set. Mr. Sturges is almost ready for you."

"Thanks, Peter. We'll be right behind you." He starts heading back toward the house, Bucky just a few steps behind. He comes up next to Steve and bumps their shoulders together, leaning in. 

"I like you behind me." Steve steps closer to hip check him and Bucky laughs, reaching up to pluck a leaf out of Steve's hair. "You don't get to look debauched until you have been."

**

Steve's exhausted by the time he gets home, but he still feels light, euphoric. Since the lights are on in the main windows, he goes into the house. Peggy and Sam are in the living room. Peggy's curled up against Sam's side, and he has his arm around her as she reads, and he's humming along, out of tune, with the radio.

Sam looks over his shoulder as Steve walks in and smiles, then raises both eyebrows. "What happened?"

"Huh?" Steve can't help smiling. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what happened. You look like your face is gonna break with how big you're smiling."

Peggy glances over. "You do look brighter."

"Nothing. I mean, if there's nothing going on tomorrow night, I was thinking about going over to Bucky's after we're done shooting for the day."

"Uh huh." Sam nods, but his smile fades. "That's kind of a sudden change."

"We talked. Well, he told me to shut up and then he talked. And I listened. And told him – admitted - that I still love him."

Sam and Peggy both stare at him with wide eyes, blinking slowly. Finally Sam smiles. "No shit?"

"Nope." He imagines his smile puts Sam's wide one to shame. 

"And?"

Steve turns his gaze to Peggy. "And what?"

She straightens up and looks at him, her expression serious. "And what did he say?"

"He said he wants to be together. Has since this all started. Never stopped."

"He feels the same?"

"Peg," Sam says quietly as Steve drops his eyes.

"What? I think Steve's been hurt enough by Bucky's actions during all of this. I don't want more of that for him."

"He didn't say that, no." Steve moves over and sits across from them both. "But I'm okay with that. I matter to him. He wants me."

"That's great," Sam says firmly, though he doesn't look at Peggy. "I'm happy for you. We both are."

"Of course," Peggy agrees, though Steve can still see the concern in her expression. "He makes you happy, and your happiness is paramount."

"Or RKO. Warner Brothers. Whatever studio." Sam's laugh is infectious and both Steve and Peggy laugh along with him.

"Even Stark." 

"We're trying to be happy for him, Peg," Sam is still grinning. "Let's not bring Stark into it."

Steve relaxes back into the chair, Peggy's smile making him feel slightly better. Her approval matters to him, maybe even more than Sam's. "Speaking of Stark, you're making your big announcement at the photo shoot and interview tomorrow, right? What time should I be down here?"

"Ah. About that." Peggy sets her book down and shifts, distancing herself somewhat from Sam. "Yes. I'm making the announcement in the interview. But there's no need for you to be here."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks as Sam says, "Why not?"

"I'm making two announcements tomorrow. Leaving Hollywood and the movie scene for radio, and the fact that we're divorcing."

This time he and Sam look at each other and then at her. "What?"

"I've thought long and hard about this and I can't, in good conscience, do a family photo shoot with you, Steve. I want Alice growing up knowing that Sam is her father and always has been. I can't erase the history of our marriage, but I can mitigate it."

"Oh." Steve glances down at the floor. "Did I… did I do something wrong? Is it because of Bucky? If you're worried about us, I promise it's not going to change anything about how I act like your husband."

"This doesn't have anything to do with you. This is about me. And Sam. And what's best for Alice."

"It hasn't even been a year." He’s not sure why his voice sounds so plaintive. This is, in the long run, what he wants, but he can’t help feeling like he’s letting his friends down somehow.

"I know. And I know that wasn't our plan. But, as I said, I've given this a lot of thought."

"You want to explain why you didn't share this with me?" Sam asks. There's an edge to his voice, and Peggy looks down at her hands then up at him. 

"Because you're worried about the fact that people might find out about us. But that won't happen once I'm out of the public eye. And Steve, I'm not altering our friendship, and of course we want you to be part of Alice's life."

"I get Bucky back and lose you." Steve laughs roughly. "Yeah. Okay."

"You're not losing us or me in particular, Steve. You're gaining a bit of freedom. You can move back in with Bucky, set your relationship to rights."

"I was hoping to go slow," he says after clearing his throat. "Take our time again. If I move into the house again, that's not going to happen. And if we divorce, I can't stay here. That would be strange, cause speculation that our marriage wasn't real. Imply that it was a ruse to hide something. And they're not going to assume you because no one knows that Alice has Sam as a father."

"No one will assume anything of the sort."

"Yeah, they will, Peg." Sam informs her. "If he stays here when you're divorced they're going to start saying things. Saying that it was fake. That he needed it to cover up something. And that's the first thing they're going to assume is that he's homosexual. And, by extension, they're going to say the same thing about Barnes."

"Then we'll find him someplace else to live that's _not_ with Barnes. I’m sorry. It’s not fair. I know that. But I've made up my mind. I want Alice to know you're her father, Sam. I want her to know the truth."

Steve clears his throat again and stands up. Sam stops whatever he was about to say, closing his mouth when Steve gets to his feet. He looks up at Steve. "It's okay," he says, offering both Sam and Peggy a tight smile. "What will you tell them when they ask?"

"I'll tell them that I don't want to be part of Hollywood life anymore, that I don't want Alice to grow up in the spotlight. And your career continues to rise, and I can't hold you back because of what I want. That we're parting amicably, but that it's my decision. Adopting her was something we did together, but it was something I wanted more than anything."

"You sure you want this, Peg?" Sam asks quietly. His face is stoic, which means Steve needs to leave so that the two of them can talk. 

"I'm sure."

"Okay." Steve nods, swallowing hard. "Okay. I'm going to… Go." He keeps nodding, not sure he can stop. "Goodnight."

He leaves as quickly as he can, not sure if either of them call him back or not. He hears their voices, but not what they're saying. He doesn't head to his garage apartment, instead he goes directly to his car. He starts out in a random direction, but he knows perfectly well he's going to end up at Bucky's. 

He doesn't know where else to go.

Bucky blinks blearily at Steve as he opens the door. Steve lets out a long, rough breath. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah. Of course." He rubs an eye with the back of his hand as he steps back to let Steve inside. "Thought you had an early morning photo shoot. Don't you need your beauty sleep?"

"Apparently I'm getting divorced."

"What?" Bucky shuts the door behind Steve and locks it. Steve just stares unseeing at the living room. "What?"

Steve turns and shakes his head. "Pegs is divorcing me."

Bucky smiles, but it drops off his face almost immediately at Steve’s expression. "I thought the plan was another year at least."

"Changed her mind."

"That's good, right? For us?"

"Yeah. Yeah." Steve sighs, nodding again. He's not sure he knows how to do anything else at this point. "We didn't even talk about it. I didn't even know. And I know it's stupid to be upset. It is, right?"

"It was the plan."

"I don't want to be with her. At all. But I still feel blindsided. It's stupid, right?"

"No. I mean, blindsided doesn't mean upset. It means surprised. Hell, I'm surprised."

"Sam was too. Why didn't she talk to Sam? Was I… I mean, was I not…"

"Let's sit down." Bucky takes Steve's arm and guides him over to the couch. "And have a drink."

"I need a drink."

"Yeah. You really do." Bucky heads over to the bar and pulls out the tools to mix a drink then stops, pouring a scotch neat into a glass then, after a short pause, doubles it. He pours a second single glass and brings both over, handing the double to Steve. "Okay. Start at the beginning? What happened?"

Steve tells him everything Peggy said and then swallows down the entire contents of his glass. He coughs, eyes watering, and then sets the glass on the coffee table. "So I didn't know where else to go."

"You come here. Live here again."

"Rumors will start."

"Your wife told you she wanted a divorce. No one's going to be surprised if you move back in where you lived before, go back to the familiarity of living with your best friend."

"We literally just decided to get back… To try again."

"We've got two bedrooms.We don't have to jump back in where we left off." Bucky reaches over and takes Steve's hand, stopping it from clenching and unclenching. "Hey. We are friends, right? Underneath all the rest."

"Yeah," Steve's nodding again, and he has to make a concerted effort to stop. "Yeah. We are."

"So move back into your room, and we'll go from there."

He leans over, resting his head on Bucky's shoulder. "I didn't expect it."

"I know." He puts his arm around Steve and shifts, leaning back slightly so that Steve's head is resting against his chest. He starts running his fingers through Steve's hair. "That doesn't mean it's not going to be okay though."

**

_Paradise lost - In a revealing interview yesterday, Peggy (Carter) Rogers announced that she's splitting from America's favorite husband, Steve Rogers. She cited incompatibility given her putting Hollywood behind her, for the most part, and concentrating on new avenues. Baby Alice will be staying with Mom, and Rogers is said to be already moving out. How did we fail to see the signs? Who knew the perfect marriage was anything but?_

**

Steve wakes up on the couch, stiff and sore from sleeping there. He sits up and rubs his face with his hands as he takes a deep breath. The house smells like coffee, so he stands up and heads into the kitchen. The coffee pot is off, but still warm, and there's a note from Bucky on the fridge held up by a magnet with a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge on it.

Apparently he's on set shooting, so Steve pours himself a cup of coffee and sits down at the table. The phone rings, so he gets up and grabs the extension. "Hello?"

"Oh, good. I hoped you were there. Interview's over," Sam tells him. Steve sighs heavily. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Is it safe to come back? Get my things?"

"Where are you going to stay?"

"With Bucky. We're going to figure it out." He knows he probably sounds short, and it's not Sam's fault. He'd been just as surprised as Steve. "My reaction last night was probably a little knee-jerk. He and I are best friends, and I just got kicked out of my marriage. Makes sense that I'd stay here."

"If I'd known this was coming…"

"It's fine, Sam. Really. I'm not mad or anything. Not at either of you."

“Still.”

“Please, don’t. I’m off today, so I’ll come over today and get some of my stuff. I feel bad that you set the whole thing up for me and now I’m not going to be there to use it.”

“Maybe we’ll rent it out. Throw in a hot plate and it’s all anyone could need.”

“No full-service meals, huh?" 

“Only for you.” Sam laughs softly. “And look, just because Peggy’s leaving the limelight doesn’t mean I am. I’m still your agent unless you’re dumping me. And, if you are, I’m not going to tell you about the next role that Stark’s got with you in mind.”

“Yeah? What role is that?”

“Well, remember that script you were interested in? The one he sold off?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, Stark tried to get it back, but the most he could get is a joint venture, and that’s only if he can guarantee you in the main role.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not going to bullshit you about something like this. I know how much you wanted that. I think Sturges wanting you made Stark realize what he’s got with you under contract. So I think your term as sheriff might be up for good.”

Steve sits back in his chair, stunned. “It’s not that I mind being a sheriff.”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth here. Besides, losing Peggy from the movies works in your favor.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’d be very good in the roles she tends to get.”

“Nah. Bet you’d be a knock-out in a dress."

“Aww, Sam. Careful. Pegs is going to get jealous.” Steve laughs, and it feels strange. “Besides, dress or no, I’m pretty sure I’m not your type.”

“Yeah. You’re going to have to live with the disappointment.” Sam laughs as well. “Come on over when you can. I’ll help you out. Plus, you know you want to see Alice. I swear she keeps looking around for your ugly mug.”

“That’s because I’m her favorite. Okay. I’m going to get ready and then I’ll be over. I can take a couple carloads of stuff at least. I expect there are people watching the house?”

“Yeah, so we’ll have to bring everything out through the house, even though the garage would be easier. Probably want to do a big production of you and Peggy walking out to your car with Alice. Show that it’s amicable. That it’s not you as a dad that’s the problem.”

“Even though technically it is.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“Sam. I said don’t. I don’t blame you or Peggy or anyone. I want her to know you’re her father. I can be strange uncle Steve who hangs out with guys probably more than normal.”

“This kid. Black dad, gay uncle. Good thing Peggy’s normal.”

“Well, I mean, she’s English.”

“Oh yeah. Good point.” Sam laughs and Steve can imagine him rolling his eyes. “See you soon.”

“Will do.” He hangs up and finishes his coffee before getting up to shower and dress in the clothes he’d worn the day before. He’s glad he’s not shooting today given his reflection in the mirror, because he looks like he needs a week of sleep to erase the black circles under his eyes. Hopefully it’s more the remnants from drinking and will fade with a few glasses of water and a good night’s rest. Preferably not on a couch.

Moving goes smoothly and, since there’s no furniture involved, it doesn’t take long. A couple of trips back and forth and everything’s back at Bucky’s house. His and Bucky’s house. Before he leaves the last time, he carries Alice out with Peggy trailing behind. He kisses Peggy on the cheek then rests his forehead against Alice’s. It’s not much of a show, since Steve is sorry to go and, even though he’ll be there to watch her grow up, he knows the bond they have won’t ever be the same. He finally hands her back to Peggy then cups Peggy’s cheek in his palm before leaning in and kissing her softly.

“See ya, Peg.”

“I’m sorry, darling.”

“Don’t be. It’s all going to be okay. Besides, it’s not like you’re getting rid of me. You’re stuck with me, Carter. Till death do us part, remember.”

“We are parting.”

“Eh, doesn’t mean you can get out of the rest of the vow.” He kisses her forehead then her lips one more time. “Be good. Both of you.” He pulls away and gets in the car, waving as he backs out of the driveway. It seems ridiculous how much of an actual goodbye it feels like, especially since he knows it isn’t. Still, it was his one shot at as close to a ‘normal’ life as he was going to get. He has an excuse now not to get married again – too in love with Peggy to look at another woman – but depending on pressure from Stark regarding Steve’s reputation and his dating life, not to mention whatever might happen with Bucky in the future, it’s not a guarantee. And he knows better than to think everything’s going to go the way he wants it.

But maybe it will. At least for a little while.

**

A week later, Steve’s only seen Bucky in passing, since they’ve been filming on opposite schedules. There have been some changes to the script, giving Steve’s character a sister who’s going to eventually end up with Bucky – brother and sister hustlers with brother and sister heirs. Steve’s been focused on learning the new dialogue and not spending his spare time on the set.

They finally start a series of shoots together, all late nights. Half of them go until midnight or later, so they don’t actually get quality time, but they do get to see each other. Given the updates to the script that keep coming, they spend their downtime running lines. It’s the last of the late shoots, the big reveal, and the two of them are in tuxedos, all the women in ball gowns.

“I would give a hundred dollars not to be wearing this monkey suit,” Bucky sighs. He’s leaning against the wall near Steve, raising his hand every few moments then lowering it as he seems to remember he can’t run his hand through his hair. “Or home in bed. What time is it?”

Steve glances at his watch. “Two in the morning.”

“Jesus.”

Steve nods. “I’d given a million bucks not to have to hear this song again.” They’ve been dancing to _Begin the Beguine_ for five hours straight, but they’ve yet to hear the full song. Mostly they’ve heard the first half.

Over and over and over again.

“Okay, you have a point.” Bucky thumps his head against the wall. “If I ever see Artie Shaw, I’m punching him in the face."

“I’ll hold him still for you.”

“You think I can’t take him on my own?”

“I didn’t say that. I just want to help.”

“Rogers! Barnes! Let’s get you into position. From the top.”

They both push off the wall and head into the middle of the ballroom. It’s another three hours before they’re all dismissed from the set, and Steve feels like he’s been run over by a truck. He lists slightly as he heads toward wardrobe, and Bucky's right beside him. They lean against each other, and Steve’s struck again by how well they fit together. They’re still in the stage of reestablishing their friendship though, so it’s not something Steve wants to think about.

They end up in the same room changing, and every once in a while Steve can’t help glancing over at Bucky. The last time he looks, he catches Bucky staring at him, brow furrowed, and expression concerned. “What?”

He’s still frowning. “You’ve lost weight.”

“Have I?” Steve glances down at himself. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean. Since I last saw you.” He waves his hand up and down, though Steve’s not sure if he means to indicate Steve as a whole or the fact that he’s nearly naked.

“Huh. I hadn’t noticed.” Bucky takes a step forward and Steve swallows hard. He can’t help the breath he sucks in when Bucky reaches out, brushing his fingers over Steve’s rib cage. “Wh-what. What are you doing?”

“I want to go home.”

“We’re done for the day.” His voice is weak, because he knows what Bucky’s saying. What he’s asking. And his touch is more intoxicating than any drink Steve’s ever had. “We’re not doing that.”

“Not yet.”

“And not now.” Steve forces himself to step back. “Not now. Yet.”

“Okay. Okay.” Bucky steps back as well, sticking his tongue out at Steve and lightening the atmosphere. “ _Fiiiiiiiine_. Though if you don’t get dressed soon, I may not have a choice.”

“Well, how about you hand me my pants then?”

“Or, conversely, how about I don’t?” He waggles his eyebrows even as he grabs Steve’s slacks and tosses them toward him. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

“I think you should put some pants on too before we do that.” Steve lets his gaze run down Bucky’s body from his shoulders to his waist, over his thighs and calves and then back up. He stops halfway back up, a small grin curving the corner of his mouth as Bucky’s cock twitches in his briefs.

“Asshole.”

Steve looks up at Bucky through his eyelashes. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah. That’s the problem.” Bucky grabs his shirt and pulls it on, buttoning it. “Quit watching me.”

“Can’t help myself.” Steve puts his pants on then grabs his shirt. “You drive or do you want a ride home?”

Bucky huffs a laugh. “You just said we weren’t doing that again yet.”

Steve lets out a rough breath, letting himself picture Bucky over him with his hands on Steve’s shoulders, hair damp with sweat as it falls over his forehead, the ends curled slightly. He clears his throat and looks down at his hands as he finishes off the last button on his shirt. Bucky laughs for real this time.

“You’re bright red, Rogers. I have a feeling your mind went someplace naughty.”

“Just like you meant it to.”

“Oh, yeah. I own up to that.” Steve flips him off then goes over to one of the chairs so he can sit down and put his socks and shoes on. Bucky buckles his belt then sits down next to him to do the same. Bucky bumps Steve’s shoulder with his own. “But, yeah. I could use a ride home.”

“Now I’m not sure if I want to give you one.”

Bucky shifts and leans closer, his breath fanning over Steve’s ear. “Sure you do.”

Steve’s hands clench into fists to keep from grabbing Bucky. “Pretty sure you’re the asshole,” he breathes. 

“Take me home, Steve.”

“Fuck.” Steve groans under his breath.

Bucky stands up, which puts him out of Steve’s reach. Steve’s thankful, because he’s not sure he’d keep his hands to himself otherwise. At this rate, he’s not sure they’re going to make it home without something happening, and he’s hoping he’s got enough restraint that he won’t grab Bucky the second they’re inside. “Come on.”

Steve gets to his feet and follows behind Bucky as he heads toward the parking lot. Bucky starts humming and, halfway to the car, Steve realizes the song is _Begin the Beguine_. He shoves Bucky so he stumbles. As soon as he rights himself, he turns around and gives Steve a huge grin before actually starting to sing.

“I’m going to leave you here.”

Bucky waits until Steve’s moved up next to him and throws an arm around his shoulder. “Nah. You like me too much.”

**

By the time they get home, Bucky’s asleep in the passenger seat and Steve has to haul him out of the car and up the stairs. Bucky sprawls face first on the bed, so Steve tugs his shoes off. Despite the urge to lie down beside him, Steve makes his way to his own bedroom kicking his own shoes off and stripping down to his underwear before climbing onto the bed and burying his face in his pillow. It’s dark when he wakes up, and he blinks at his clock several times before finally giving in and switching on his bedside lamp to actually see the time. He groans and gets up, tugging on a pair of pajama pants before heading into Bucky’s room to see if he’s still sleeping.

He’s still sprawled on the bed, still fully dressed. Steve sits on the edge of the mattress and pokes him in the side. “Buck. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Wake up.”

“Fuck off,” he grumbles.

“It’s eleven.”

“Need more than six hours. Fuck off.”

“At night.”

He turns his head and opens one eye to look at Steve. “What?”

“It’s eleven and I’m hungry.”

“How does that involve me?” He closes his eye again. “Go away, I’m sleeping.”

“Ugh. Fine.” He starts to stand up, but Bucky shoots out a hand and grabs Steve’s wrist, tugging him back. He falls toward Bucky as Bucky turns over, so Steve’s leaning back against Bucky’s chest. “Can I help you in some way?”

“You woke me up. I deserve compensation.”

“You deserve what?”

“Reparations for the trauma you’ve caused me.”

Steve raises an eyebrow as he looks down at Bucky. “Trauma.”

“I was having a really nice dream.” He turns again so he’s lying on his back. Steve reaches across Bucky to support himself on the mattress. “Really nice.”

“Yeah? Dare I ask?”

“Well, I was in the Bahamas.”

“Okay, yeah. That’s nice.”

“And I was on a secluded sandy beach drinking some ridiculous cocktail with an umbrella and fruit and a long pink straw. Tasted like pineapple and coconut.” He traces a finger from Steve’s shoulder, over his bicep and down to his wrist. “I was covered in suntan oil.”

Steve manages to suppress a shiver at the light touch. “That so?”

“Mm. But I had to set my drink down.”

“Oh?” Steve reaches out and undoes the top button of Bucky’s shirt. Bucky’s breath catches and it takes him a minute to start talking again.

“Yeah, because this gorgeous blond walked out of the ocean and started toward me.”

“Gorgeous, huh?”

Bucky reaches up to Steve’s shoulder again, but instead of Steve’s arm, he runs it over his collarbone, his chest, all the way to the waistband of his pajama pants. “Oh, yeah. He wasn’t wearing a thing, just rivulets of water cascading over all this tanned skin. God.” He closes his eyes and trails his fingers over Steve’s erection, tenting the soft cotton of Steve’s pajama pants. “He was beautiful.”

“And what did this Adonis do then?”

“He sank down on his knees and straddled my legs, pulled my swim trunks down just enough that my dick was free and then he took me in his mouth, sucked me deep and hard.”

“Definitely sounds like a dream.” Steve undoes another of Bucky’s buttons.

“Don’t know about that. Most of it was from memory.”

“Oh? You have a lot of guys blow you on the beach?” Another button and Bucky’s shirt is half undone. Steve watches him swallow, his chest rise and fall with a shaky breath.

“The beach part was the dream.”

“I see.” Another button and another. “So you have a lot of guys blow you elsewhere.” He smiles down at Bucky and, in retaliation, Bucky rubs his thumb firmly over the head of Steve’s cock. Steve sucks in a sharp breath and undoes the final button, pushing the fabric of Bucky’s shirt open and off his chest. “So, is that where I interrupted the dream?”

Steve knows he should stop – they should stop – because they’re working their way back, but the want from last night – hell, the constant want – is roaring in his veins. He reaches out and swipes his thumb across Bucky’s nipple and Bucky arches off the bed, a small whimper escaping his parted lips.

“N-no. Worse than that.”

“Worse?” His voice has dropped, low and husky as he moves his thumb again, rubbing the hard nub with the pad of his thumb and then flicking it with his fingernail. “Was he fucking you?”

“Not yet.” Bucky’s chest contracts as Steve changes tactics and pinches his nipple, squeezing it tight. “Oh, fuck. I was just about to come.” His hand starts rubbing Steve’s cock through the fabric again like he’s just remembered he has it in his hand. “Could feel it building, cresting and then he – you. You woke me up. Oh.” He gasps for breath as Steve straightens, no longer leaning back, and uses his other hand to capture Bucky’s other nipple, pinching it as well. “Oh, god.”

Bucky takes his hand off Steve’s cock and slaps it on his thigh, nails digging in through the thin material. Steve hums at the sensation and releases Bucky’s nipples only to flick them both hard. Bucky gasps again then grabs blindly until he catches both of Steve’s wrists, pulling him down. Kissing Bucky is like breathing, automatic and innate. Their mouths move together, made for each other. Bucky’s tongue presses past Steve’s lips, fucking it into Steve’s mouth as Steve presses his hands to the mattress and shifts over Bucky so he can settle on top of him.

Bucky spreads his legs so Steve is cradled between them. Bucky groans and wraps both legs around the back of Steve’s then grinds up against him. Steve breaks the kiss and pants into Bucky’s mouth. “We need to stop.”

“Yeah. Sure will.” Bucky fists his hands in Steve’s hair and pulls him back into a kiss. Steve goes easily, willingly, even though he knows he shouldn’t. The feel and taste of Bucky overrides all of his common sense. Bucky’s words are slurred against Steve’s lips. “Any second now.”

“Buck,” Steve moans, the sound overridden suddenly by a loud rumble from Steve’s stomach. They both still then Steve laughs, Bucky doing so a few seconds later. Steve ducks his head and buries it against Bucky’s shoulder. “Said I was hungry.”

His stomach growls again, and Bucky shoves Steve off. “Okay, okay. Go get some food. Ugh.” He falls back on the bed and Steve looks down at him. Bucky’s body is flushed and has a light sheen of sweat, his nipples hard, and his cock straining against his fly.

"You want something?"

Bucky growls, annoyed, then shoves himself to sitting before getting off the bed. "Yeah. But you're _hungry_."

"C'mon. We'll have pancakes."

"Oh, yeah. Pancakes. That's almost exactly like what I really want."

"I'll remind you that you started it."

"I what?" Bucky scoffs. "I was _sleeping_. You're the one who came in all half-dressed and rumpled. I'm just a man, not a saint."

Steve grins at him. "Meet you downstairs."

"Ass." Bucky sheds his shirt and Steve leaves quickly when Bucky's hands drop to his pants. Steve's pajama pants are still tented, so he has to adjust himself as he goes down the stairs. 

Bucky comes down a few minutes later, dressed in pajama pants as well. He flops down on one of the kitchen chairs, dropping his head on his arms, folded on the table top. 

"Coffee."

The word is muffled, and Steve bites back a laugh. "Coffee will keep you awake all night." Bucky doesn't lift his head, but he does raise his middle finger. One his way to fill the coffee pot with water, Steve takes a detour and kisses the top of Bucky's head. 

"You're not forgiven."

"I'm making coffee."

"When I get a cup I might reconsider."

Steve chuckles and goes back to cooking. It's nice. Domestic. And, as difficult as it was, he's glad they stopped before they had sex. He wants it, desperately, but he needs it to mean more. Or he at least needs to feel some kind of surety. He knows saying so would probably upset or hurt Bucky, but with his heart on the line, Steve can't help but be cautious.

As soon as the pancakes and coffee are done, Steve brings them over to the table. Bucky deigns to get up and grab plates and utensils while Steve brings over butter and syrup. He settles back down and pulls several pancakes onto his plate before he glances up at Steve. Steve smiles, but it fades into a slight frown when Bucky looks back down at his plate.

"Can we talk about this?" Bucky asks when he's halfway through his pancakes and on his second cup of coffee. 

Steve looks up, licking excess syrup from his lips. "This?"

"Us. What happened tonight. And going forward."

Suddenly the pancakes feel heavy in Steve's stomach, the syrup sickly sweet. "Sure."

"I know neither of us want to be hurt again, go too fast. That's just as true for me as it is for you. But we are working toward something, right? However improbable it is, being together long-term?"

Steve picks up his coffee, exhales and blows the breath across the surface of his coffee before taking a drink. "I want that. I told you how I feel."

"I know. I'm just not sure what the steps are. How do we know when we trust each other enough to get closer? And," he keeps going before Steve can say anything. "I'm not just talking about sex."

"I didn't think you were."

"Though, I'll be honest, that's part of it." 

"I want that. All of it. The sex too. What happened tonight proved that. And I don't know. I'll be honest about _that_. I don't know what will flip the switch."

It's Bucky's turn to blow out a breath. "So we just play it by ear? Keep playing it by ear."

"I think that's what we have to do."

"Okay." Bucky's voice is carefully neutral, so Steve doesn't actually know what he's feeling about that decision. It doesn't tell him anything when Bucky then cuts a triangle from his stack of pancakes and shoves the entire thing in his mouth, puffing out his cheeks.

"You're a disaster."

"Yup." Bucky grins widely, mouth still mostly full. "And I'm all yours."

"I'm beginning to think you're trying to change my mind."

**

A few setbacks means that filming drags on another couple of weeks after their projected end of filming date. The charity tournament arrives even though Steve and Bucky have been so busy they haven't had a chance to practice at all.

Steve glances up as Peggy walks into the bedroom and hands him a pair of white shorts, white socks, and a white shirt, the stack topped off with a pair of bright white tennis shoes. She's come over with Alice, and Sam was already there to talk about another upcoming project for Steve. There are reporters outside like they have been for a while, no doubt trying to catch Steve going out with a starlet in the hopes of making their divorce into something more scandalous and, therefore, interesting enough to sell papers.

Steve looks at the clothes in his hands and shakes his head. "This is going to be embarrassing."

"Oh, absolutely," Peggy agreed. "An unmitigated catastrophe."

"You don't have to look so damned pleased about it."

"I relish the opportunity to regale Alice with the time Uncles Steve and Bucky humiliated themselves in front of all of Hollywood."

"At least be sure to let her know it was for a good cause. Not that she'll actually know who we are, because, if it's as bad as I think it's going to be, we're going to have to leave society and live in a cave somewhere."

"We'd visit you in the cave so she'd have a chance to bond with you both. And specifically so she'd know who to laugh at."

"You think Bucky'd live in a cave with me?"

She stares at him for a moment then rolls her eyes. "No, Steve. He wouldn't live in a cave with you. No one would. With you or without you. Because we are civilized. Well, some of us."

"I resent that implication." He tosses the outfit on his bed. "Come on. Let's go downstairs before Bucky convinces Alice that he's her favorite uncle."

They head down to the living room where Sam is sitting on the couch, and Bucky is crawling on the floor with Alice. "Remember," Sam says, "Just because she picks things up off the floor and tries to eat them, you don't have to."

Bucky gives him a quick glare. "I'll have you know I vacuumed, Wilson." 

"Wow." Sam doesn't look impressed in the slightest.

"A clean carpet's the least I can do for my girl." Bucky sprawls on his back so Alice can climb on him. "Steve, we should have a baby."

"Not something either of us are equipped for." Steve sits on the floor, back against the chair opposite Sam. As soon as she spies him, Alice shrieks in delight and nearly falls off Bucky in her haste to get to Steve.

"We could steal one."

"We're already breaking a law or two being together. I really don't think we should push it." Alice makes her way onto Steve's leg, flopping over and smushing her face into his thigh. He grabs her and turns her until she's sitting on his lap. She slaps his hand then grabs it, lifting it up and taking his finger into her mouth and gnawing on it.

He's totally her favorite.

Bucky huffs a disgruntled sound. "Well, Alice would be better off with us. Apparently Peggy and Sam are raising her to be a cannibal."

"She's teething." Sam sighs. "Cries all night, gums everything she can get her hands on. I don't think any of us have clothes that aren't covered in drool."

Bucky looks down at his shirt which is, as promised, spotted with drool. He shrugs then turns his attention to Peggy as she sits next to Sam on the couch. "We've been listening to your radio show." He raises up on his elbows so he can actually see her. "Steve said Howard's going to start doing some science fiction?"

"Howard is incredibly jealous about Welles's broadcast. He's convinced he could have come up with it."

"Poor Howard." Bucky says sarcastically, shaking his head. "Must be so hard for him not being the only genius in the room."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll come up with something to end up on top." Peggy smiles. "As far as I know Welles doesn't have any patents, so that's where Howards taking his solace for now."

Alice burbles and drool dribbles down her chin and all over Steve's fingers. Steve bounces her, blushing as Bucky smiles at him, warm and considering, as he looks over Steve and Alice. "Are you coming to the tournament?"

"Oh yes. Alice has a tennis outfit all her own to wear."

"People are talking, you know." Bucky sits all the way up. "I was out with Dugan last night for dinner and overheard some people at the next table talking about how you and Steve have the most boring divorce ever. Not a scandal in sight." Bucky gets to his hands and knees then and crawls over, sitting next to Steve on the floor. "I kept thinking about how they'd react if they knew about all the scandals we have hiding under the surface."

"We'd be the talk of the town for ages to come," Peggy agrees with a laugh. 

"If we didn't get _run out_ of town." Steve doesn't laugh, but he does smile. "And even then, they'd be drooling over us more than this little miss." He leans into Bucky, shoulder to shoulder. Bucky runs his hand up and down Steve's thigh before settling it just above his knee. "So, what do you two have planned for tonight?"

"Just dinner. A little romance." Sam puts his arm around Peggy and pulls her closer. "You two sure you don't mind babysitting?"

"Absolutely. We've been looking forward to it. You two go have fun, enjoy some alone time. We've got this." Peggy and Sam both look slightly skeptical, but Steve meets their looks evenly. "I promise to make sure Bucky behaves. And gives her back at the end of the night.” Peggy starts to say something and Steve shakes his head. "And we'll call if anything comes up."

"We've just never - "

"We know," Bucky assures her. "But we promise to treat her as if she is our own."

Sam stands up and holds his hand out to Peggy. "Come on. It'll be alright. I think we can trust them for a few hours."

She takes a deep breath then lets it out slowly. "Okay. But you will call. Even if it's something small."

"Yes, though I'm pretty sure she's just going to sit right there and chew Steve's fingers until they prune up too much to feel good or she actually manages to gnaw one off." Bucky gets up off the floor to walk them to the front door. "I babysat my siblings for years. I promise that we've got this."

"Right. Of course. I know." She nods, but still looks back over Bucky's shoulder at Steve.

Steve waves with his free hand. "Have fun. Enjoy the peace and quiet."

Bucky comes back over after he ushers Sam and Peggy out of the house. He sits on the chair behind Steve, a leg on either side of him. Steve tilts his head back and Bucky leans forward to kiss him. "Seriously, we can steal a kid."

"Kidnapping is a federal offence, and I have no intention of going to prison for you when we can just convince Peggy and Sam to take a night off now and then."

"I'm sorry. Are you, of all people, insisting on being law-abiding?" Bucky's eyebrows are almost to his hairline. 

Steve ignores him. "I'm afraid if you want a kid that badly, you're going to have to find a nice girl to impregnate."

"I could. But that'd probably put a damper on our relationship, huh?"

Steve laughs. "Yeah. Probably."

Bucky sighs dramatically, leaning forward to rest his head on Steve's and reaching over him to tickle Alice. "I guess we babysit then."

Seve tilts his head and kisses Bucky's cheek. "Sorry."

"Eh, it's okay. If I got someone pregnant they'd probably end up having issues with you and me being together. Not worth the hassle."

Alice squeaks and wriggles then suddenly burst into tears. Steve gets to his feet carefully, handing Alice to Bucky before wiping his fingers on his shirt. "I'll get a bottle."

"Why do I only get her when she cries?"

"You're the one who wants a kid, remember? I just want to make sure you get the whole experience."

**

"Steve! James!" Hedda steps in front of them while they're walking to the tennis court they're assigned to for the tournament. "When can we expect another bachelor blow out? With Hedy and Peggy out of the picture, you're two of 'Hollywood's most sought-after bachelors."

"We have to survive this tournament first, Hedda." Steve gives her a smile and he knows it edges on saccharine and fake, but fortunately having to walk backwards seems distracting enough that Hedda doesn't seem to notice. "Is that a new hat?" Hedda has an atrocity on her head that Steve's never seen. "It's very flattering."

Bucky coughs, though Steve can tell it's just to smother a laugh. As tempting as it is, Steve doesn't smack Bucky's ass with his racquet to remind him to behave, lest they face Hedda's wrath..

“Maybe after. To celebrate.” Steve shrugs.

“Or to drown our sorrows after a rousing defeat.”

“Way to think positive.” Steve jabs Bucky with the handle of his tennis racquet. “I appreciate that in a partner.”

Bucky gives Steve a wide smile that implies something more than just a tennis match, and Steve grins in return. Hedda gives them a speculative look for a moment, then something else seems to catch her eye. “Excuse me, boys. I see Clark, and I simply _must_ talk to him.”

She hurries off and Bucky sighs dramatically. “Thank goodness _Clark’s_ a bigger star. We’ll have to thank him for taking on the dragon for us.”

“Oh, as if you have room to talk, Mr. ‘Oh, yes. My friends _Cary_ and _Spencer_ ’.” They’re hidden from the crowd and other eyes enough that Steve does swat him on the ass with the racquet. “Pretty soon you’re going to be too high society for me.”

“Uh-huh. Let me list all the directors you’ve worked with lately. I’m sure there are a few recognizable names in there.”

“Yeah, but I don’t call them by their first names.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Only because you refuse to listen to them when they tell you to.”

“It’s disrespectful.”

“You’re impossible.”

Steve just grins, but he steps away from Bucky as he hears voices getting nearer. 

“Steve! James!” Natasha rounds the corner, walking quickly, which means she wants to be there before her conversation partner to allow the two of them to sort themselves out if needed. Fairbanks comes around the corner after her, and Steve raises his eyebrows. That’s a messy pair.

“Nat.” Steve hugs her. “I didn’t know you and Doug were teamed up.” He knows exactly how much Fairbanks hates being called Doug, but Steve hates that, even though she went in eyes wide open, he still managed to hurt Natasha in a way Steve can only construe as deliberate given how it happened.

“They needed someone for mixed doubles, and apparently Douglas was kind enough to talk to my agent. I believe some money changed hands and I was offered up on a platter.”

“Getting a new agent?”

She smiles tightly. “You have no idea.”

“Natalie, dear. We’re due on the court soon.”

“Why don’t you go on ahead, Doug?” Steve offers him a fake smile. “I’d like to talk to Natalie in private for a moment. Maybe you could walk with him, James?”

Bucky purses his lips and his look vows retribution on Steve. “Sure.”

Natasha sighs as soon as they’re out of sight. “Thanks.”

“Isn’t he remarried?”

“Yes. And he assures me he wants nothing more than a tennis partner."

“What do you think?”

She shrugs. “He seems to love her. I have a feeling he wants to make sure we’re done. Perhaps make sure I don’t spill any secrets, though why he might think I would now is a mystery to me." 

“Covering his bases?”

“Everyone knows he was cheating on Joan. Nobody blamed him. I think Joan would care more than Mary Lee would.” She shrugs. “I can’t figure out what he wants, and that annoys me. And makes me incredibly suspicious.”

He holds out his arm and Natasha takes it, and they start walking toward the court assigned for mixed doubles. “I don’t think anyone would be particularly heartbroken if you accidentally backhanded the ball or your racquet into his more delicate parts.”

“His wife might. I think they want children.” She laughs and leans against Steve’s shoulder. “I almost wish I was your type, you know. We’d be an amazing couple.”

“Sadly, now that Peggy’s broken my heart, I’m not in the market for anyone. Even you.” He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. “But if I was going to make an exception, there’s no one else I’d choose." 

“You’re sweet. A liar, but sweet.” She goes up on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek when they reach the court. As she sinks back down, she reaches up to wipe the lipstick off his cheek. “There. We’ve started a few rumors at least.”

“You like getting me into trouble, don’t you?”

“I just like trouble.” She laughs and lets her hand slide along his arm, catching and squeezing his hand before heading onto the court. Bucky joins Steve on the sidelines, standing just far enough away not to be suspicious.

“You two looked cozy.”

“Like I told her, I’ll never get over my broken heart.”

“Pity. You’re such a catch too.” Bucky elbows him in the arm. “I think we’re supposed to play the winner of the match between Grant and Scott and Stewart and Bogart.”

“Isn’t beating Jimmy Stewart sort of like kicking a puppy?”

“That’s why we have to hope Grant and Scott do it for us, otherwise I’m pretty sure we have to throw the game and go down in abject defeat.”

“I’m beginning to think you want us to lose.”

“I start a movie in two weeks. I want to spend some quality time at home.”

He raises an eyebrow and Steve shakes his head, giving a little laugh as they walk toward their court . “Yeah, I got it. You’re not as subtle as you think. And that’s coming from _me_.”

Bucky laughs just as Scott scores the winning point. “Looks like we’re playing against our more famous counterparts.”

“Good luck!” Jimmy Stewart calls out as he leaves the court. “They cheat!”

“Hey!” Grant says. “Only a little!”

They win four matches before they’re defeated by Gary Cooper and Jimmy Cagney. They’re both damp with sweat as they make their way to the refreshment tent. Natasha’s there with Peggy, and Betty Grable’s there cooing over Alice as she babbles. Bucky heads for the champagne table while Steve goes over to Peggy, kissing her cheek, lingering there for a moment, forehead resting against hers, playing his part.

“Hey, Pegs.”

“Darling.” She reaches for his hand and squeezes it. “You looked nice out there. Those shorts do amazing things for your thighs.”

“Not fair teasing me,” he reminds her. “You made a choice, remember?”

“Of course.” She squeezes his hand again. “Alice, look who’s here.”

“Hey, Princess.” Betty hands Alice over to Steve with a smile and he takes her, bouncing her in his arms. She starts giggling, loud and happy as she smacks him on the shoulder. There’s music playing in the background, so he dances her around. He blushes when Bucky catches his eye. The corner of Bucky’s mouth is curled up in a smile as he watches them with warm eyes, melting something inside Steve. Steve ducks his head and eventually heads back toward Peggy, handing Alice over.

Bucky walks toward them, offering Steve a glass of champagne. “To our valiant effort.”

Steve raises his glass and taps it against Bucky’s. “I suppose we have to stay until the whole thing is done, hmm? " 

“Not sure. I think we’re out of medal contention, so we’re not getting anything if there’s a ceremony. And I think the next part’s just a dinner and, since we’ve already paid for our seats, the important part’s done. We don’t really need to be here to fill them. What do you think?” He leans in and lowers his voice, looking out of the corner of his eye at the gathered crowd. “Sunstroke?”

“Or we just sneak out.”

“I like the way you think, Rogers.”

“What can I say? I’m more than just a pretty face.”

“Body’s not too bad either.” Bucky dodges Steve’s mock punch. “Watch the goods there, Rogers.”

“Think the convertible needs another test drive?”

“You’re reading my mind.”

“It’s not too hard.”

Bucky leans in just enough as he walks by that Steve’s the only one who can hear him. “Other things are. Or could be if you play your cards right.”


	6. 1940

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Co-creator - odetteandodile

**Stark Contract: Ends**

_They say the party never ends, but things have certainly settled down at the bachelor haven of Barnes and Rogers. Between picture after picture, taking them as far as Berlin, it seems like the two actors are taking a break from living the high life_

**

David Niven leaves Hollywood the same time Bucky goes off to shoot his next film. They’re on the same flight to England, though Niven’s going home to fight. Bucky calls Steve that night, telling him about all the precautions in place in England, about the sounds of the bombs falling at night, about pitch darkness.

The studio ends up flying him and the whole production to Canada instead, switching the filming location since the lot they’d plan to shoot on has been given over to the war effort. Steve listens to the radio when he knows Bucky’s in the air, pacing until he gets the call that they’ve landed, finally abating the fear of Bucky being shot down over the Atlantic. The change of location means Bucky’s gone for two months rather than three weeks. Just before he comes home Steve has to go to New York for a shoot, so Bucky’s been home for a month before Steve sees him.

The car drops Steve off in front of the house and Steve walks in, exhausted from an hours-long flight. He groans as the smell of food hits him. “I hope you’re not having someone over for dinner, because if you are, I’m crashing your date just for the food.”

“Well, I was expecting someone.” Bucky comes out of the kitchen and looks Steve over. “But since you’re here, I guess I’ll cancel.”

“Don’t let me spoil your plans.”

“Eh, I suppose I can make do with you.” Walking over to him, Bucky puts his hands on Steve’s hips and runs them up his sides then down. “Welcome home.”

“What if I just want to sleep for a week?”

“I thought you were going to eat all my food.”

Steve walks down the stairs into the living room, crowding against Bucky. Bucky hums lightly then presses his forehead to Steve’s chest. Steve closes his eyes and rests his chin against the top of Bucky’s head, wrapping his arms around him. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Missed you.”

Bucky looks up and meets Steve’s eyes. Steve makes a low noise, a rumble in his chest, and then closes the distance between them, nuzzling at Bucky’s lips before he kisses him. It’s gentle and thorough and Steve gets lost in the warmth of it. The desire to give in to something harder, deeper is there underneath, but the slow exploration of Bucky’s mouth is a different kind of burning.

“You lost weight again.”

“I did a lot of fake punching.”

“I can’t wait to see all the fake sweat. Did someone spray you down?”

“I was misted all over, but I did a lot of my own sweat too. And stunts. The black eye you’ll see might be a little bit real.”

“Just a little bit?”

Steve straightens so he can tilt his head back and forth. “They added a little make-up to make it more pronounced. Fortunately I didn’t get my nose broken at the same time or I would have had to be there longer or have to go back again to film all over again after the swelling and bruising went down.”

“Not sure that beak could take another hit.” Bucky reaches up and traces Steve’s cheekbone just under his eye. “Not sure your brain can either.”

Steve’s lower lip slides out into a pout . “Are you being concerned or insulting? I can’t quite tell.”.

Bucky smiles at him before he leans in and sucks on Steve’s lip for a moment, sighing as Steve groans. “Let me feed you, and then we can see about the sleeping thing.”

“Or we could just go to bed.”

“Mm. I want you to have stamina for when we do that. Which means fuel, which means food. Come on.” Bucky pulls away and takes Steve’s hand before heading toward the kitchen. Steve follows along obediently, stomach growling as they get closer and the smells get stronger. Bucky guides him to the table then tries to pull away. Instead, Steve sits down and tugs Bucky into his lap. “Steve.”

“What?” He nuzzles Bucky’s neck.

“Dinner’s ready and going to burn. Put your dick back in your pants.”

“Hey! I haven’t even pulled it out yet!”

“Fine.” Bucky kisses the tip of Steve’s nose. “Keep it in your pants so I can get dinner out of the oven.” He slips off Steve’s lap and grabs the pot holders that are sitting on the counter beside the stove. When he bends over the open door, Steve wolf whistles. “You’re the worst, and I want you to know that I’m flipping you off inside the pot holders.”

“It’s not my fault your ass looks like that.”

“Are you kidding? The workout you give it is the whole reason it looks like that.” Bucky sets the pan on the stove, and the smell of roast beef wafts strongly through the air. Both of their stomachs growl this time. Bucky spears the meat with two forks and sets it on a platter. He slices the beef, or tries to since it practically falls apart, then puts the mixed vegetables in a bowl before carrying both over to the table. In the meantime, Steve gets up and gathers dishes so he can set the table.

Bucky sits opposite Steve and they eat, talking about Steve’s flight and the filming and what Bucky’s been up to. It’s quiet and normal and domestic, and Steve gives himself a moment to think about what life would be like if this was something they could actually have. When they’re both finished eating, he reaches across the table for Bucky’s hand and tugs at it until Bucky gets up and comes over to sit in Steve’s lap again.

Steve wraps his arms around him and rests his forehead against Bucky’s shoulder. “Thanks for dinner.”

”You’re welcome. Thanks for coming home.”

“Where else was I going to go?”

“I don’t know. Just glad you’re here.” He rests his head against Steve’s. “So about the sleeping thing. Exactly how tired are you?”

“Are you propositioning me?”

“No.” Steve pulls back, and Bucky looks at him seriously. “I wanted to talk, actually.”

“Haven’t we been talking?” Cold dread creeps up Steve’s spine. “Could swear that’s what we’ve been doing.”

Bucky shifts so he’s straddling Steve’s thighs, facing away from him. Steve’s hands fall to Bucky’s thighs, resting but barely touching. Bucky leans back against Steve’s chest, and Steve tilts his head to the side so Bucky can rest easily on his shoulder. Steve wishes he could have some distance between them. His heart is beating too hard in his chest and his lungs feel tight. Bucky sighs softly. “You feel like you’re going to dump me on the floor and bolt out of here.”

He knows Bucky can feel him shrug. Steve’s glad Bucky can’t see him. He doesn’t know what his face is doing, but his expression feels tight and he has to press his hands more firmly to Bucky’s thighs so they don’t shake. “Well, relationships aren’t my strong suit, but I’m pretty sure the words ‘we need to talk’ rarely, if ever, end in something good. So I guess just say what you want to say.”

“Okay.” Bucky shakes his head, but it doesn’t feel like a denial. “Well, we’ve been apart for a long time here, and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

Steve’s positive he doesn’t want to hear more. His whole body is tense and, Bucky’s right, his flight instinct has kicked in, and all he wants to do is shove Bucky away from him and leave before he can say another word.

“And seeing how things were over in England, and knowing the war is likely going to come to us, because no matter how much we say we’re going to stay out of it, I don’t think we’ll be able to for long.”

That makes Steve frown. He has no idea what the war has to do with Bucky ending their relationship.

“And knowing all of that – knowing what it’s like to be without you, and knowing what’s coming, I need to tell you some things.”

“Please stop prefacing this and say whatever you need to say, Bucky. I don’t need background for why you want out of this relationship.”

“I love you.” Steve’s silent for a long time, his brain spinning. After a moment, Bucky turns his head to look at him, and his forehead is furrowed in a frown. “What?”

“You what?”

“You first. Why would you think I want out of the relationship?”

“You love me?”

Bucky stands up. “No. We’re not talking about that right now. What the hell, Steve?”

“I was talking about how ‘we need to talk’ rarely ends well, and then you started listing all these problems. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

“Not the worst!” Instead of just standing, Bucky starts pacing. “Jesus. How about you give me a little credit every once in a while? You constantly assume I don’t want this, and I can’t figure out if it’s you being unhappy with yourself or not trusting me, but I have to tell you, it’s really pissing me off right now.”

“I said it months ago and you didn’t! You never have. What was I supposed to think?”

“Maybe that I wasn’t ready to say it! It doesn’t mean I didn’t feel it. I thought, I don’t know, I was showing it. I really can’t believe you. Jesus.”

“I’m sorry! You made it sound like it was something bad! I was bracing myself!”

“You’re an idiot!” Bucky shouts.

“That’s not news!” Steve shouts back then huffs a breath. “I’m sorry. I was scared. I panicked. I’m scared of how much I want this to be the rest of my life, okay? How much the thought of losing you would hurt.”

“Maybe you need to trust me. I know I was awful when you left to help Sam and Peggy. I know I put distance between us and hurt you. I know I fucked up. But since we started again I’ve tried to show you, prove to you that I’m in this completely. That I want to be with you. I haven’t been with anyone else for almost five years, Steve. Just you.”

“Oh."

“Yeah, you idiot. Oh.” Bucky sighs and comes back in front of Steve, leaning against the table, hands on the edge of it.

“Okay.” Steve swallows then licks his lips, scraping his upper teeth over the lower lip afterward. “Can we forget about the part where I’m an idiot for a few minutes and go back to the other part?”

Bucky smirks and shakes his head. “Which part is that?”

Steve scoots to the edge of his chair reaches for Bucky. Bucky moves closer, and Steve puts his hands on Bucky’s thighs, swiping his thumb back and forth slowly on both sides. “The part where you tell me how you feel.”

“Where I feel angry and want to smack you upside the head and hope it knocks some sense into you?”

“No. Not that part.” Steve looks up at him, and his whole body feels lit up, hopeful. “The other one.”

Bucky looks like he’s thinking. “Oh. The one where I love you?”

“Yeah. That part. Can we go over that a few more times?”

“I don’t think you deserve it.” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest, trying to look stern, but his lips keep twitching.

“Hey!” Steve pushes his lower lip out in a dramatic pout. “I totally deserve it for the heart attack you gave me thinking you were going to leave me!" 

“Because you thought the _worst!_ ” Steve pouts even more, letting his shoulders sag, bending his head so he’s looking up at Bucky through his eyelashes. Bucky glares at him, but he can only manage it so long before he breaks into a smile. “Quit it.”

Steve starts blinking his lashes rapidly and sniffling.

“Stop it,” Bucky laughs.

Steve grabs Bucky’s wrists and pulls him back down onto his lap. Bucky puts up token resistance, but eventually settles back onto Steve’s thighs. “So let’s get this straight.”

Bucky snorts. “Us?”

“You love me.” Steve croons it and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“That could change any second.”

“And I love you.”

“Obviously you’re getting the better end of the deal here.” 

Steve sticks his tongue out at Bucky then reaches up to cup Bucky’s face in his hands. When he speaks, his voice is serious. “I love you.”

“I know,” Bucky says softly. He brushes his thumb over Steve’s lower lip. “It really is mutual. Now. Let’s go upstairs and put you to bed. To sleep. Because my ego can only take you passing out on me so many times.” He slips off Steve’s lap again, grabbing his hand and pulling Steve to his feet as well. “We can act on our feelings in the morning.”

“Oh, Buck. I don’t care how tired I am, there’s no way either of us are sleeping tonight.”


	7. 1941

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Co-creator - odetteandodile

**Stark Contract: -7**

It reminds Steve of the night they met.

There’s the non-stop flash of cameras, the constant cries of people shouting his name. He sees Hedda and Louella at the theater doors like vultures. He turns his head and smiles down at Peggy. “Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Besides, it’s always fun to watch the two of them try to outdo each other asking if we’re getting back together. Alice is delightful, but some adult entertainment is nice every once in a while.”

“Adult, huh? I think they act more like children than Alice does most of the time.”

“You’re frighteningly correct.” Peggy laughs and tightens her hold on Steve’s arm. Her dark coat with its gray and white collar highlight are complemented by her brilliant red lipstick and artfully pinned back hair, making her pale English skin seem to glow. Steve bends down and presses his forehead against her hair for a moment.

“I do appreciate you being here.”

“I don’t,” Natasha says from the seat opposite them. She’s equally stunning in an emerald dress and with her hair hanging loose. “I would have had both of them to myself and been the talk of the town. You take all my fun, Peggy.”

“You still have James, dear. I only took half your fun.”

Natasha grins and reaches over to poke Steve in the side. She and Bucky are sitting on the limo seat opposite them Steve and Peggy. Sam and Dugan want them to walk the carpet separately though, so once the car’s stopped Steve and Peggy climb out of the car first to a swell of noise. They start down the long, red stretch, pausing for pictures and quick questions, most of them asking if the two of them are back together. They stop at the behest of several people, waiting for Bucky and Natasha so they can do group photos of the four of them, as well as pictures of just Steve and Bucky. Between cries directing them on which way to look, Steve can hear some people say how much they seem to fit together – dark and light both in color and suits, Steve bulkier than Bucky’s slimness, the way Bucky seems made to slip under Steve’s arm as they smile and pose.

“It’s almost like a wedding photo,” Natasha says under her breath, and Steve can feel himself turning red.

“Nat!” He hisses and she just laughs at him. He gives her a mock glare, and he can practically feel the flash when it goes off. She’s still laughing, so hopefully whatever the caption is won’t be too dramatic or damning. After one last picture with Bucky they start back down the carpet, going through the same routine again and again.

When they get to the theater, Sturges is standing there talking to Hedda, Louella, and a few more industry reporters. He’s got them hooked on whatever story he’s telling, but he breaks off when he sees Steve and Bucky.

“My boys!” He comes over and throws an arm over both Steve and Bucky’s shoulders, one on either side of him. “You’ll see, all of you. These two are the stars of my show – literally. You’ve never seen such chemistry! I don’t know what fueled them, but they were magnificent. I guess it’s true about the best friends making the best enemies. But you’ll see! You’ll see!”

“Preston,” Bucky says with a laugh. “You’re building things up. They’re going to pick us apart now.”

“You’re perfect. We’re perfect. The film is a dream. They’re going to eat it up with a spoon. Even you two.” He points at Hedda and Louella. “If you don’t, I’ll eat Hedda’s hat.”

“You most certainly will not!” Hedda snaps and Sturges smiles. “This is my best hat.”

Steve is careful not to look at Peggy or Natasha for reactions, because the hat is horrific, but just the thought of what they might be thinking has him biting back a smile.

“Figuratively, Hedda. Figuratively.” Sturges takes her hand and bows in front of her. “I wouldn’t dream of touching your hat.”

Bucky coughs, and it’s very much a cover for a laugh. Even though Hedda glares suspiciously at him

“Oh, absolutely,” Louella drawls. “Not the precious hat. She needs something to set herself apart.”

Preston grins at Steve and Bucky then tilts his head toward the theater. All five of them walk in together and are suddenly in the midst of a crowd of Hollywood’s elite. Sam and Dugan come over to join them, and Steve’s irritated once again with the thought that Sam had to come in through the kitchen because the color of his skin won’t allow him to come in the front door like the rest of them. Alice is at home with Sam’s sister who’s visiting, allowing Sam to actually be there despite parenthood.

Howard comes in with two starlets, one on each arm, and comes directly over to their small crowd. A few others – their costars as well as several actors who have worked with Sturges before – bring the group to a large number, and Steve fades into the background as others take over the conversation. Peggy and Sam who, by virtue of their careers, command less attention eventually edge out as well. Steve nods toward the bar and they walk over, Steve ordering for all of them as well as for Bucky and Natasha.

After another ten minutes, the large group breaks up and the two of them come over to join Steve and the others. Bucky’s fingers brush Steve’s as he takes the drink from his hand, and Steve can’t help smiling, a light heat burning his cheeks as he blushes. Bucky rolls his eyes and Steve surreptitiously flips him off.

“Steve. Sam.” Howard walks up to them and wraps an arm around each of them. “Need to set up a meeting and talk about Steve’s contract. Never too early to get the ball rolling on things.”

“I don’t know, Howard. With movies like this, Steve might have graduated out of the Stark pay grade.”

“Nothing’s above the Stark pay grade. Plus, look at how much leniency I’ve given you lately. And I got your movie back. Can’t deny I did that.”

“After you told me I couldn’t do it and sold it.” Steve gives Howard a wide grin that holds no amusement. “So I’m not sure how much credit I can give you for that one.”

“They had Bob Montgomery tapped for that one. Wasn’t sure I was going to get it back, but I did realize you were the best for the job, for the script. Give me a little credit at least, huh?”

“Sam can set up a meeting. For now though, I want to enjoy tonight. No more business talk.”

Howard raises an eyebrow. “Business talk is what tonight’s all about.”

“If that were the case, no one would stay to watch the movie.” The lights start flashing to encourage them all to get to their seats. As everyone starts to file into the theater itself, Bucky tilts his head to reinforce his point. “Which, I think we’ll see, isn’t the case. At least tonight.” He holds out his arm to Natasha. “Shall we?”

“Wouldn’t miss the two of you being put in your places for the world.” She slips her arm through his. “Lead the way.”

“Ouch,” Steve mutters then holds his arm to Peggy. “Here’s your chance to get your dig in.”

“I’m thrilled to join you,” she assures him. She gives a quick glance to Sam who will have to sit in the balcony. He shrugs and winks at her. Peggy smiles and ducks her head. It doesn’t change things, but as of now, there’s nothing they can do.

“Enjoy the film, Sam.”

“Eh, don’t worry, Sam.” Dugan throws his arm around him. “I’m one of the peons too, so we’ll hang out together.” They can’t sit together, but Steve knows Sam appreciates the gesture.

“You think I want to be seen with your ugly mug?” Sam shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“You’re in the wrong business, Sam. You’re dramatic enough to be an actor.”

“I ain’t acting.” He grins at Dugan and throws his arm around him as well. “Well, I guess beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll see you all at the after party.”

The lights flash again and they all make their way into the theater itself, sitting in their assigned seats. There’s a news reel and a cartoon and, as soon as the theater goes completely dark, Bucky presses his knee against Steve’s. Steve sets his hand on his thigh and Bucky does the same, the backs of their hands pressed together, as close to holding hands as they dare. The movie starts and Steve glances at Bucky, meeting Bucky’s gaze, and both of them smiling. Steve leans in slightly. “Which one of us is going to get the Oscar?”

“Me. Or it’ll be a tie.” He bumps his shoulder with Steve’s. “Or Preston will win, and we’ll be out in the cold.”

“Shh, you two,” Natasha says in a whisper. “I can’t laugh at you if I can’t hear you.”

**

“It was amusing,” Steve hears Hedda admit in the most begrudging voice he thinks he’s ever heard. He’s careful not to look at Bucky so he won’t burst into laughter.

“High praise, Hedda.” Sturges has no such restraint, obviously delighted. “That’s a five star review coming from you.”

“Hmph. I said amusing, not amazing.” She turns up her nose for a moment then seems to relent. “Go fetch me a vodka tonic, Preston. Make yourself useful.”

“Your wish is my command.” Sturges bows and heads off to the bar, giving Steve and Bucky a wink and a thumbs up as he goes. The hotel’s crowded with the who’s-who of Hollywood and quite a few of the who’s-not and who-might-bes. Steve talks to everyone, accepting compliments on the movie in general and his performance in particular. He dislikes premieres as a rule, always feels shy and awkward, especially with effusive praise like tonight’s seems to involve. Still, it’s nice to have his acting appreciated. 

Peggy and Sam have gone home, Peggy citing Alice as an excuse and Sam not needing one. After the first few overheard comments Steve hears about him interfering with Bucky and Natasha trying to start something and always thwarted by Steve’s presence, he mostly keeps to himself, mingling and joining a conversation here and there. Howard finds him, because homing in on someone who doesn’t particularly want to see him is a specialty of his. He leaves business talk alone fortunately, probably because he’s learned by now that he goes through Sam to get Steve when it comes to that.

Instead he introduces Steve to his two companions, obviously doing his best to either pawn one of them off on Steve or at least try to make Steve show some interest. Steve’s made it clear that Peggy was ‘it’ for him, but it doesn’t seem like Howard wants to take the hint or, more likely, is afraid that people will start to talk, since neither he nor Bucky have been dating. Steve knows he should probably go on a series of first dates at least, but he’s hoping to put that off for a while.

Steve is as polite as possible, though he doesn’t commit to anything no matter how much Howard tries to get him to agree to a double date. He manages not to look horrified when Howard suggests it, but he certainly feels it. Eventually it’s late enough and everyone seems drunk enough that Steve can slip away and try to find Bucky. Not surprisingly, he’s at the bar with a group of women, all of them fawning over him. Steve catches his gaze and rolls his eyes. Bucky just shrugs. 

“Can’t help it, Rogers. I’m irresistible.” 

“I know plenty of women who’ve resisted you, buddy.” Steve comes closer and orders a drink, even though he’s probably had too much already. It’s a thin line to walk, because he has to be careful with what he says, what he does. It’s too easy to want to get closer to Bucky once his inhibitions have started dropping. Adding on the fading adrenaline from the night, as well as his fading anxiety and the fact that he hadn’t really slept the night before, tthe odds of him saying or doing something dangerous a little higher than he’d like. Thankfully he’s sober enough to recognize the need for caution, so he doesn’t get too close, no matter how much he wants to.

“Yeah? Name one.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Hm. Well, maybe not.”

“Yeah. I thought so.” He takes a sip of his drink and leans on the bar. No one’s left the circle around Bucky, and Steve just waves his hand to tell Bucky to go back to his adoring crowd. Bucky picks up whatever conversation he was part of, and Steve just watches. After a while Natasha comes up to him and settles there, leaning against his shoulder.

“What do you say we dump this guy and you and I go off together? I bet he doesn’t even notice we’re gone.”

“He’s a jerk. How on Earth do you stand him?”

“He’s my cross to bear.” She grins directly at Bucky and it’s clear he heard her from his narrowed eyes. She moves away from Steve to Bucky, her movements the definition of sinuous. “Since you seem to be otherwise occupied, Steve’s going to take me home.”

“Stealing my girl, Rogers?" 

“First off,” Natasha says as she taps Bucky in the center of his chest, “I’m not your girl. I take pity on you and go with you to these things.” She’s smiling and the words are gentle, so it’s clear she’s teasing him. “Second, I’m not something that can be stolen, because I am my own person. Third, I do what I want.”

“Yes, ma’am. All of those are very true.” He leans in and kisses her cheek. “Don’t believe a word he says about me.”

“James, darling, I don’t need anyone to tell me things about you. I _know_ you.” She leans in, her mouth just brushing Bucky's. Steve knows it's all for show and there's no reason to be jealous, and he's not. It's more envy, he thinks, that she can be free with her affections and Steve can't. 

"Night." Steve waves to Bucky. "I'll see you in the morning. Assuming you come home." He winks. "Or at least leave me a note to make breakfast for three."

"I'm sure one of these lovely ladies will take care of me one way of the other." Bucky's eyes are dancing, promising things that Steve wants, promising he wants the same. 

Steve offers Natasha his arm and they leave, the quiet outside the party almost shocking. Natasha hides a yawn behind her fist and leans into Steve. "Hungry? I need to soak up some of this vodka with something."

"Original Pantry?"

"Definitely." 

They take a cab and, despite the late hour, the diner is still relatively full. Or possibly because of the late hour. Steve orders a meatloaf sandwich and an egg cream, and Natasha gets an order of mashed potatoes with gravy and a chocolate malt. Steve raises an eyebrow at her choices, but she just turns up her nose at him.

"Vodka comes from potatoes, so to vodka potatoes will return."

Steve laughs. "I guess that's fair enough." He lifts his water glass. "To potatoes."

"The miracle of potatoes. Though you're Irish, right? You should already understand."

"I didn't actually _live_ through the famine, you know. I'm not quite that old."

"It's ingrained in your people."

"Speaking of grain, didn't Russia have a famine because of that just recently?"

"I was here and I'm not from the southern region." She sticks her tongue out at him. Steve laughs and looks around. They're the only ones in fancy dress, and a few people seem to be looking at them, though it's obvious they're trying not to. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Oh, Rogers." She reaches out and brushes his hand with hers. "We could have had such a romance. It would have been beautiful. Too bad I'm not willing to settle." She grins to take any sting out of her words. "Because we both know if I got caught in any sort of affair, I'd become some sort of scarlet woman for cheating with American's heartthrob."

"I'm most definitely not that."

"You might be after tonight. I swear I heard multiple people sighing dreamily when you were on the screen."

"I'll leave the heartthrob to Gable and the like. I just want to be a good actor."

She squeezes his hand then pulls it away as the waitress brings their food over. Once she asks them if they want anything else and leaves, Natasha shakes her head. "You are a good actor. And you're getting to show off your range, so you can only become better."

"Let's hope." 

They both dig into their food. Steve shares a bite of his sandwich and she shoves a forkful of potatoes at him. They taste each other's drinks, and the window glass lights up with a flash. "Well, we're going to be in the papers tomorrow."

"Barnes to Rogers - Has Rushman switched from one roommate to the other?"

"Don't give anyone who might be listening any ideas.” He’s thrilled he’d met and gotten to know Bucky, but he’s just as glad Natasha’s become part of his life. “They're bad enough without the help."

There are a few more pictures taken, but they both ignore any photographers and finish their meal in peace. Natasha gladly lets Steve pay, citing him as a big movie star now, which only makes it look more like a date. 

He refuses to let her take a cab alone, and they head to her place first. She leans against him and yawns. "Thanks for seeing me home."

"I had fun tonight." He hopes that she gets that he means after the premiere and party, and her smile makes him think she does. 

"Me too." She turns her head and tilts it up toward him, whispering in his ear. "You think he'll be jealous?"

"If he is, he's an idiot." 

She just hums and goes back to resting her head on his shoulder. He has the cabbie wait once they get to her place so Steve can walk her to the door. 

She hugs him tightly and kisses his cheek. "I'm so lucky you met him. Because he makes you happy, but also because I got an excellent set of friends out of the deal.” She says softly, echoing Steve’s earlier thoughts. “And he's lucky to have you. Remind him of that."

"I think he knows."

She shakes her head. "Remind him." She taps him on the nose. "Goodnight, Steve."

"Night." He waits until the door shuts behind her then heads back to the cab. It drops him off in front of their house, and he looks up at it with a smile. _Their_ house. The kitchen light as well as Bucky's bedroom light are on, so Steve knows he's home. He locks up behind him and goes into the kitchen. After a drink of water, he snaps off the light and heads upstairs. 

Bucky's sitting up in bed reading, shirtless with the sheets pooling at his waist. He looks at Steve and his eyes are hazy with drunkenness. Steve's not sure if he's actually reading or if it's a prop, though Bucky does mark his page with a bookmark when he shuts it. Not that that means it's a new page and not the one Bucky was on before tonight. 

"Hey. Fancy meeting you here."

Steve's already undone his tie and the top button of his shirt. He strips off his jacket and hangs it on his wooden valet stand. "How long did it take you to figure out what you were going to say for hello?" 

"Shut up."

"And that's the best you can do to give me shit?" Steve raises an eyebrow and smiles, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. "Also, you're on my side of the bed."

"You weren't here, and I had to be close to you somehow." 

Steve scoffs as he tosses his shirt toward the hamper. He starts on his slacks as Bucky sinks down until he's lying on his side. He props his head on his hand and watches Steve as he strips down. "Where'd you guys go?"

"Food."

"Did you bring me anything?"

"You're not stuffed from all those hors d'oeuvres? You went after those crab puffs like a starving man." He's down to his boxers and about to pull the covers back when Bucky shakes his head. 

"C'mon, Rogers. Show off the goods." 

"You've seen the goods."

He reaches out and tugs the waistband of Steve's boxers away from his waist. "It's been ages. Wanna see 'em again. Promise if I like what I see, I'll show you my appreciation."

"Is that right?"

Bucky pulls the elastic a little further out, then down. Steve starts to harden at the dark look in Bucky's eyes and the heat of his hand as he reaches inside the boxers to wrap his hand around Steve. "Mm. I'm very good at appreciating."

"So I've heard."

"Come on. Experience it for yourself. Let me pay my respects."

"You're the li-literal worst." Bucky's hand rests just under the head and he swipes his thumb over the slit. 

"Yeah. I can tell you think that. Now, take these things off and get into bed. Want to sink down on you and ride you, so my goods are front and center for _you_ to appreciate."

"Eh, you're all right." Bucky removes his hand and pulls it back so the elastic snaps back against Steve's skin, Steve groans as it grazes the head of his cock. Bucky smirks. "And mean."

Bucky shoves the covers back and he's naked and hard. He wraps the hand that had been around Steve around his own cock. "Just alright, huh?"

"Yeah. Okay." Steve strips the rest of the way and crawls into the bed. Before Bucky can move, Steve straddles him, grabs his hands, and pins them to the bed. "Your performance tonight was amazing."

"Oh, honey." Bucky spreads his arms, bringing Steve down until they're just a breath away. "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

**

_Hollywood was a galaxy last night with the premiere of the new Preston Sturges movie, Outrageous Fortune. Co-stars James Barnes and Steve Rogers proved themselves adept at comedy - at least under Sturges's capable hands. Everyone was dressed to the nines as they descended on the theater, and the red carpet was worn thin with all those who came to see the picture._

_Afterwards was the real showstopper though, as Steve Rogers was seen leaving with Barnes's date, settling in for a cozy tete-a-tete with Natalie Rushman in front of god and everyone. It hasn't been long since Rogers's divorce from Peggy Carter and, although she attended the premiere at his side, it's clear that Rogers is no longer broken-hearted and ready to move on._

** 

"Steve, you're not going to believe what Hopper wrote." Steve walks into the kitchen where Bucky's reading the newspaper. Bucky looks up when Steve doesn't make any response, and he freezes. Steve can't imagine what he's seeing in his face. "Jesus, Steve. What is it?"

Steve takes Bucky's hand and pulls him into the living room where the radio is turned on low. Steve swallows hard as the broadcast starts again. Last night and the Giants versus the Dodgers game he'd been listening to is long forgotten. Steve turns up the volume and the newscaster's voice rings out.

_Report: Oahu, Hawaii: Japanese bombers attacked Naval base Pearl Harbor at 7:48 AM Hawaiian time. An estimated 300 Japanese Imperial aircraft bombed the base, damaging all eight US battleships stationed there; four of which are rumored to be sunk. The death toll of U.S. Servicemen is unknown. There's been no response from the White House at this time, though there's little doubt that Congress will declare war on Japan. Can Europe be far behind? We go now to a reporter on the scene -_

Steve looks at Bucky, who looks just as shocked as he is. "Oh, shit," Bucky whispers.

"We're at war."


End file.
